Broken Shards of Heaven
by Mythrael
Summary: Long is the path that starts with the fall, deep is the pain in the darkness' call. Light can be found in the most unlikely places. Sometimes we need help to find it. LCxKT, other characters involved, takes place after AoD. CHAPTER 11 UP
1. Prologue

This story takes place after AoD. I can't really elaborate on the summary without giving away the plot, sorry.

Note: English ain't my mother tongue, so spelling mistakes are likely to appear as my writing skills in this language are far from perfection.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the character from the original AoD plot, such as Kurtis, Lara, Karel, Eckhardt, etc. They belong to Eidos Interactive and Core Design. Other characters will appear, however, that belong to me and me alone, such as Aysha, Ethaniel, etc…

Soundtrack: sometimes I use music as a source of inspiration and a certain chapter may have been inspired by a song. When that is the case, I'll refer to that song on the top of the page as 'Soundtrack: name of the song'.

Ok, on with the story :)

* * *

Light is filtering from above, she can feel it softly permeating her closed eyelids. A soft rumbling sound reaches her ears, perhaps the purring of an engine. She can't remember where she is nor what happened… but a nagging voice in the back of her mind keeps telling her there wasn't supposed to be light. A part of her wants to open her eyes and try to understand what is going on, but the other is afraid of what she may see if she does. So she just lies there, trying to recall the events of the last hours.

She remembers sneaking into the mess hall with Jack late at night, trying to snatch some extra food from the kitchen. Then the alarms going off and the soldiers rushing in all at once… at first she had thought they were in trouble, but Jack had promptly pointed out that such a mobilization couldn't be due to an insignificant food theft.

She recalls the soldiers telling them to go join the rest of the unit and stand by for orders, so they did. She doesn't remember going there, but she remembers waiting with the others for instructions that never came. She remembers Ethaniel saying "screw this" and moving for the exit of the complex. Of course, Ethaniel being the CO and the natural leader, they all followed. By that time the entire building was shaking dangerously and they had to run before it would collapse around them.

The rest of it is a diffuse blur. She remembers running… whispers about the Cubiculum Nephili being awakened… asking Ethaniel what was going on… her fear when she received no reply… and then the explosion. She remembers her last thoughts, how close they were to the exit… then it all had gone black.

She flinches due to the memories. That's why there wasn't supposed to be any light.

_I was supposed to be dead._

Slowly and painfully, she opens her eyes. As the world comes into focus, her other senses seem to awaken too and she spares a thought to how dry her mouth is and how her body aches all over. Then she takes a moment to examine her surroundings. Her brow furrows in confusion as she fails to recognize the shape right in front of her. Slowly, it dawns on her. A wooden chunk.

Eyes widening, moving around frantically. Debris. Lots and lots of Debris. The Strahov has collapsed. And she's here… but why?

_Why am I not dead?_

She identifies the source of the light that awoke her as being a search light and she hears men talking in Czech.

_The police?_

Slowly and painfully, she sits up only to find that she has a deep gash running all the way from her upper thigh to just above her knee. No big deal.

_It'll be gone by tomorrow. _

She gets up on shaky legs, a deep feeling of nausea plaguing her senses. All around her the infinite field of debris stretches, occasionally marked by an officer in a blue suit talking to an intercom. She should be worried about staying out of sight in order to avoid a bunch of annoying questions, but her mind is elsewhere right now.

_Where are the others?_

Taking a few unsteady steps forward, she spots the police cars up ahead as well as a couple of fire trucks. Not one of her people though. All humans.

"Excuse me, miss!" She turns around slowly, only now noticing the police officer running towards her "Are you alright?" the young man asks in a concerned voice. She stares at him blankly for a moment before replying in perfect Czech.

"I… yes"

"Were you in there?"

"N…no… I…" her still dormant brain struggles to find an excuse, but it's no use. She's too tired, too confused and too concerned for her siblings' well being "… I wasn't" The officer looks her up and down, taking in her torn and bloody clothes.

"What is your name, miss?" he asks, a condescending note in his voice. This one she can work out.

"A-Alison" she blurts out, almost saying her real name.

"Well, Alison, you need to go to a hospital and afterwards we would like you to drop by the police station to answer some questions, alright?" All the while she takes to process this information, little alarm bells ring in the back of her mind until she finally makes the feeble connections in a somewhat crude way: hospital bad, police worse.

"I'm alright" she blurts out a bit too fast to be convincing. She takes a deep breath to calm herself down "I don't need no hospital" The officer regards her dubiously but then shrugs and replies:

"Fine. Off to the police station then" Alarm bells again. Louder. Police station bad. Just as the officer is beginning to turn around, she intervenes:

"You know, actually… I'm not feeling too well…" she emphasizes the statement by staggering slightly forwards, her dazed look so perfect that it could have fooled the most suspicious detective.

The young officer rushes forward to support her, concern back in his features.

"I'm sorry Miss. Alison but I really think I'll have to take you to a hospital" She shudders slightly but gives in. A hospital is better then the police station and much easier to escape from… but if they give her a shot she'll go psycho.

* * *

They gave her the shot. The bloody shot. She's lying in the hospital bed half asleep due to the sedative injection just because the stupid doctors though she was too nervous due to shock.

_Nervous! I only became nervous when they started talking about the fucking shot! And about that nurse, it wasn't my fault, she stood in the way…_

The truth is the sedative did no good in calming her down. In fact, she's even more nervous now knowing that she's wasting time that could be used to escape. She has to get out of there before some smarty-pants doctor decides to examine her and finds out that certain parts of her internal anatomy aren't exactly 'human'. The alarm bells grow deafening.

_The blood sample!_

They took a blood sample from her just a while ago!

_Oh fuck_

She's got to get out of there. Fast. As soon as they run an analysis on that blood she'll be caught.

She's not sure how, but her blood is bound to give her away… She has to go.

She clumsily crawls out of the bed and tries to stand up. Her first attempt sends her straight to the floor, unable to hold herself up on shaky legs.

_Stupid sedatives!_

Finally she manages to stand up and starts for the window with a blurry vision and uncertain steps. She takes another thirty seconds just to be able to turn the handle in order to open the window.

_Stupid hospital windows!_

As the window slides open, a cold gust of wind hits her straight in the face, ruffling her long ebony hair. She looks down at the streets below, covered in snow. Deserted. Perfect. She looks back at the door of the white tiled room just to make sure no one is coming. The coast is clear.

Slowly and carefully, she swings one leg over the window sill. Then the other. She is now sitting on the sill. Looking down, evaluating. Her brain effectuates the calculations in a micro-second, slower than usual however.

_Second story, five meters. High. _

Not too high though. Not for her. _Balls of feet, knees bent, put weight forward. _She revises mentally as she takes a deep breath and finally lets herself fall.

An ill landing draws a hushed curse from her lips, more an exclamation of aggravation than pain.

'_Put weight forward' you moron! Ow…_

Gathering herself, she begins to scan the outskirts feverishly. A side street. No passers by, no witnesses. Just too good to be true. She spares one last glance at the hospital window high above, allowing a grin to grace her features, blue eyes twinkling with smug pride.

She walks down the street, stopping herself before rounding the corner that would take her into the entrance of the hospital. Only now does she seem to remember that she's wearing only the sheer hospital garment. The cold bites at her bare skin, making her shiver. She curses.

_Stupid hospital clothes!_

Peeking around the corner, she sees just what she needed: a huge commotion at the main entrance. She makes out a dark haired man dragging himself up the stairs, his stomach bleeding heavily, and calling for help in a somewhat poor Czech. The nurses rush to his aid. A perfect distraction.

She spares a thought of pity to the man, but immediately shrugs it off, remembering her current predicament. Silently, she rounds the corner and continues forward towards the main square. The effect of the sedative seems to be wearing off. Aysha is hungry.

* * *

That was the first chapter :) feedback appreciated! Liked Aysha? You better do, coz she's gonna be one of the main characters in the story. If you haven't figured it out yet, this takes place just after Lara has defeated Karel. The explosion blew up most part of the Strahov, leaving only the Sanitarium (in ruins) and the Vault of Trophies. Aysha was in there along with some other… people. Not saying anything else just yet :P please review! 


	2. Letting go

Disclaimer: I don't own any recongnizable characters from the original AoD plot. Aysha, Ethaniel and others that will appear from time to time, however, do belong to me.

* * *

The rain plunges down from the sky in heavy water strings, mercilessly flooding the grounds of the Croft estate. A lonely woman stares thoughtfully as the water drops draw abstract patterns on the window pane of the library. A rumbling sound announces the arrival of a thunder storm. Lara watches as a black cat hurriedly jumps down from the tree she was standing on and rushes inside through the kitchen door. She sighs.

_Stupid cat, standing in the rain like that. She'll reek of wet fur for ages now. _

No problem. She'll just have Winston dry the annoying animal up, after all he was the one who brought her home anyway.

'It'll do you good, my dear, it'll be a company! And God knows you need one…' had been his words. Lara snorts. If she wanted a company she'd have come up with one long ago and it most definitely wouldn't be a little curtain wrecker with an even more anti-social personality than her. All the stupid cat has done so far has been ruining her couches, hiding in the attic and rubbing herself on Winston's legs. For some reason, she doesn't seem to like Lara. No problem there. It's mutual.

As if on cue, a loud 'meow' disturbs the quietness of the library. Lara glances back at the door to find a very snob looking cat, dripping wet. On her carpet. Her eye twitches involuntarily.

"Winston!" she bellows, a little louder than necessary "Come get this wet thing at once!"

The old butler hurries upstairs, quickly (or as quick as he gets) appearing at the threshold of the library's door.

"You called, my dear?"

"Yes!" Lara replies, aggravated, slamming shut the book that rests on her lap "The cat is soaked, she's been standing in the rain for ages. Could you _please_ clean her up?" Winston gives her a reproachful look.

"Lara, dear, would it be that hard to clean the poor thing up?" 'The cat', which Lara hasn't even bothered to name yet, gives her a defying look that states very clearly 'you just try'.

"What, so she can do to me what she does to those curtains everyday? No way, Winston, I still got the scratches from last time I tried to pick her up…" Winston sighs and picks the now docile kitten up, giving Lara a confused look.

"Honestly I do not understand why she doesn't like you!" Lara shrugs and waves her hand dismissively. Winston takes the cue and leaves her alone with her book.

After the door clicks shut behind her, Lara lets out a long sigh. She doesn't feel like reading anymore, so she sets the book down on the table.

She's perfectly aware of the reason why the cat doesn't like her. After all, who would lately? She knows very well how much of a bitch she has been ever since she returned from Egypt… even worse after Prague.

After the dark and confusing swirl that the Nephilim business had proved to be had subsided, Lara had felt herself slumping back into the harsh and gloomy reality that her life had been before. Sure, the times in Paris and Prague had been much darker and harder to deal with but she had been fuelled by the adrenaline all along.

Now even that has subsided and she is left once again to deal with the still fresh scars from Egypt, worsened by the more recent pain of Werner's last betrayal.

"_It's too dangerous… But she'll be able to!" _

After all these months, the words still sting like sharp needles.

_The worthless coward little piece of crap!_

First betraying her and leaving her to die in Egypt, then having the nerve of calling her for help and finally offering her to a killer in return for his own life. Maybe she could take that from somebody else, but from Werner… the man who had been like a second father to her… it just hurts too badly.

Lara stands up and heads for the window, dragging her feet in the process. She presses her forehead against the cool glass, closing her eyes as she listens to the rhythmic compass of the rain outside.

Ever since she had come home, she had been trying her best to overcome grief in the only way she could think of: making herself numb. She hopes there will be a time in which she will have gathered enough indifference to be able to just ignore any of these painful memories. That implies, of course, never allowing anyone to come close ever again. That way, she is sure nobody will be able to hurt her.

She had adopted that plan, as a matter of fact, when she had come home after Egypt, but it had been blown to hell when Werner had called, hysteric with fear over some 'dark business' he had gotten himself into. She hadn't been numb enough yet. She had gone to his aid.

A long sigh escapes her lips. And then, of course, there was that man. The American. Kurtis. Temporary partner, skilled fighter, short time companion… friend?

_No._

They weren't friends. Partners, yes, perhaps even companions but not friends. She hardly knew anything about him, as him about her… She doesn't even understand why she is spearing a thought to this man. He's gone know, so what's the point…

Her eyes invariably wander off to a corner table in which a strange object lies. A metallic disk with an odd symbol engraved into its surface, four metallic blades now resting permanently in its core. Ever since it pulled out of Boaz's arena in the Strahov, the peculiar weapon has been still and dormant. Dead.

_Like its owner._

The thought saddens her, although she isn't sure why. Maybe it is the fact that he was the only person she could relate to in the middle of that messed up world, maybe because he hadn't gotten to killing Eckhardt himself and avenging his father like he wished to… or maybe she just needs him too damn much.

She rolls her eyes at herself.

_How do you need a complete stranger?_

The answer is quite simple, in her mind: it isn't the man himself that she misses, it's what he represents. Somehow, defeating Karel and going back to that arena only to find a blood stain with no body to go with it had left her with an overwhelming feeling of incompleteness. It had been as though something was missing, as if it wasn't over yet. As if it hadn't been finished properly. And then his weapon, tugging on her arm, pulling her into the darkened pathway… She had wondered around in the bowels of what was left of the Strahov for has long as her injuries had allowed her, but had found no Kurtis. Dead or alive, he was gone. And the weapon never sprung to life again.

Somehow, not seeing him after the final battle had felt like something had been left undone. And that feeling is still biting at her heart.

Then there is the fact that she owes him. He had, after all, stood behind to fight Boaz so she could go after Eckhardt. Quite a selfless gesture, as a matter of fact.

_One that cost him his life._

There was a time when she had refused to believe that he was dead. A time when she would stare at the weird little weapon for hours, hoping that it would spring once again to life and lead her to its owner. No such luck. She keeps it in the library, as somehow it seems wrong to stash it away with all the other artefacts, as they are all hers now, their owners being dead. But this weapon…

… _belongs to a dead person too. He's not coming back._

Yes. With that ultimate resolve, she feels that it's time to let go once and for all and picks up the circular disk, resolutely heading downstairs.

Instead of making her usual way through the garden maze, using the switch and sprinting for the door of the trophy room, she just turns a wall lamp that promptly opens the wooden panel. She walks inside slowly but resolutely, descending the stone steps and crossing the distance between the treasure chests without even bothering to turn the lights on. She knows this path by heart these days. Entering a section on the far back, reserved for the most important artefacts, she goes to stand before a vacant cabinet. Opening the lid and carefully laying the circular weapon down on a velvet base. As she carefully seals the case and types in a small keypad the combination that will keep it sealed, she can't stop the words from escaping her lips:

"Goodbye, Kurtis."

* * *

It's short, I know, but when I wrote that last line I thought that looked like a good way to end the chapter.

I meant to post the 3 first chapters at a time, but it just hit me (this being saturday night) that I have a ridiculously huge school assignment to deliver on Monday, which I have yet to start so thechapter will have to wait.But I promise I'll have the 3rd chapter up soon...ish. lol

Constructive reviews appreciated!


	3. Assumptions

I'm finally done with my assignment (don't think I'll ever wanna hear about the industril revolution... ugh) and so here's chapter 3!

Thanks a lot for the reviews and AKKON, I'm aware of the similarities when it comes to the use of the present and such but aboutthe2nd chapterI handn't realised it untill you said it. Maybe you did inspire me without me realizing it?You're right andIcan only hope that I don't writeanything else that resembles your fic... at least I can assure you that the plot won't lol and thanks a lot but I still think your story is infinitely better than mine!

Ok, just for the record, I hate this chapter. I'll explain why at the end.

* * *

Thick clouds of cigarette smoke float through the air of the dingy Parisian bar, curling and spreading to infest the entire atmosphere with nicotine. An amateur band fills the space with a repetitive drumming rhythm, almost drowning in the noise originated by the conversations, laughter and shouts.

In the centre of the room, some men are playing pool while others are engaged in a card game in a corner. A skinny bartender stands lazily behind the counter, having already served the last costumer that isn't yet beyond his account of alcohol. This man sits on a stool, leaning on the wooden counter while he sips his scotch. His azure eyes obscured by dark bangs stare absentmindedly at the mirror on the wall behind the bartender. His irises focus slightly on it when it shows the door that grants entrance to the bar open and a girl coming in. He wouldn't even have bothered with sparing her a glance if it wasn't for her extremely young appearance.

She has the looks of a girl in her late teens, 16, 17 maybe. However, she moves with the decided posture of a grown woman. She comes to sit beside him on a stool, not once looking at him.

"Bacardi lemon" she states simply in a clearly English accented French, addressing the bartender in a bored tone. The blue-eyed man takes a moment to observe her more closely, out of pure curiosity. She's not very tall, has shoulder-length dark hair dyed red on the front and extremely pale skin, accentuated by the dark clothing she wears. He is now sure, this girl can't be older than 17.

The bartender also seems to share his suspicions as he checks the newcomer up and down, taking in her baggy jeans and petite frame.

"Card d'identité" he barks firmly. The girl throws him a dirty look, but reaches into her back pocket for the ID card. She lays it on the table casually and bartender promptly examines it. The man also takes the opportunity to have a glance of it.

'_Alison Winters, 24'… yeah right. Nice forgery though._

The bartender is still eyeing her suspiciously but gives her the ID back and proceeds to fix her drink.

The girl shrugs and pockets the card, proceeding to rest her head on her hand and drumming her fingernails on the counter. The man notices they are painted black.

_A teen Goth with a fake ID in one of the dingiest bars in Paris… curious to say the least._

And being such a curious smart-ass, of course he has to comment:

"Nice forgery. Where d'ya get it?" The girl glances at him out of the corner of her eye, boredom still clear in her face.

"You talkin' to me?" she asks in a monochord tone.

"See anybody else round here with a fake ID?"

"What makes you think it's fake?" He snorts.

"If you're 24 then I'm 68" she looks him up and down.

"Wouldn't surprise me"

"Why thank you, it's good to know I'm in such good shape" he replies with a smirk.

"You welcome" they are interrupted by the bartender who arrives with her drink. She takes to sipping it casually.

"So" he insists "how old are you really?"

"What's it to you?" annoyance now clear in her face.

"I'm curious. Kids don't usually get their hands on fake IDs"

"Curiosity killed the cat" she retorts.

"Is that a threat?" he asks amusedly. She sighs in annoyance.

"If I tell you my age, will you fuck off?"

_Hardly._

"Maybe…" he replies. She finally locks eyes with him.

"I'm 17, you happy?"

_Bulls eye._

"So… 17… does mummy know you're here?" he teases her. He half expects her to be annoyed, but is somewhat surprised when a sarcastic grin crosses her features. It's gone in a couple of seconds.

"None of your business" she retorts simply. He shrugs, but is soon back at it. Hell, he's bored and this kid is funny to pick on.

"Is your name really Alison?" She looks at him, unnerved.

"Who are you, some kind of bar fiscal? A copper!" she blurts out.

_Just fancy that. A copper._

He has the urge to break up laughing.

"Don't insult me, will ya? I'm just a nosy guy with nothing better to do" he chuckles. She stares at him blankly for a couple of seconds, before turning away.

"Whatever" she mumbles. Then, turning to the bartender, calls "Combien?"

"3 euros" he replies coldly. She throws the money on to the counter and turns to leave.

"What's the matter darling?" the man calls after her "Got tired of my company? Or does mummy want you home before 2?" She doesn't reply and he just chuckles until, by mere chance, he catches a glimpse of a tattoo in the back of her neck. In the movement of standing up, her hair had moved aside to reveal a red symbol similar to an 'A' with a small curl on the side.

He freezes on the spot. By the time he manages to react and rush after her, she's already out the door.

* * *

Aysha gladly welcomes the night's air that ruffles her hair the moment she exits the bar. She's happy to be free from the smoke filled atmosphere, not to mention from the annoying nosy guy.

_What a pain in the ass. Pathetic, really, must be going through some middle age crisis._

She dismisses the thought and starts to wonder off slowly. It is, actually, quite annoying that people regard her as a kid just because of her physical age. After all she's been through, she has the mental maturity of an adult!

She blows, exasperated, as she recalls how she went through hell to get that bloody fake ID along with all the other legal papers necessary to make herself "existent" on the world outside the Strahov.

The only times Aysha had been out of that dreaded place before had been on missions and always under the strict supervision of the Cabal military forces.

She snorts.

_I still don't get why the hell didn't we just kill 'em all. We had the power to do it all along, after all. _

She knows perfectly why, though. Because, as kids, they were scared to death and had no knowledge of an outside world. And then, when they grew up, they had been taught all along that they were doing the right thing. Of course, they hated it. They hated the humans that controlled them, they hated all the hard training and they hated the great work.

So why hadn't they revolted against their masters? It was well within their power…

_Because Ethaniel said we should wait. _

And so they had waited. Because had Ethaniel had said so, and Ethaniel always knew better. He was the CO for some reason.

_Well, apparently he doesn't know so much or he would have gathered us again by now._

Her heart stings whenever she thinks of her siblings… or at least the place where her heart is supposed to be.

_Do things like me even have a heart?_

She doesn't think so. But still, it pains her to think of her companions. She thinks of them as her family, her only family… She's been looking frantically for them ever since she escaped the Strahov, but has had no luck so far.

She knows, however, that they are alive. She would have felt if one of them had died. She only hopes they haven't been recaptured by what is left of the Cabal…

Her disturbed thoughts are interrupted by the slamming of the bar door about 20 meters behind her.

"Hey kid! Wait up!" she hears someone calling after her. She turns around slowly, surprised, but her expression quickly turns from one of confusion to one of annoyance as she recognizes the annoying guy from the bar.

"What the hell do you want!" she snaps.

The man stops for a moment to gather himself. What's he going to do? Just walk up to some strange kid and ask her why does she have a Nephilim related symbol tattooed on the back of her neck? He knows he's going to sound like an idiot, but he chooses a more discrete approach.

"Nice tattoo" he comments. Aysha blinks a couple of times, her face blank.

"Do you want something?" she asks finally.

"Do you know what it means?" he asks in turn.

"The tattoo? Beats me" she lies, shrugging. Then, with a hint of suspicion demands "Why? What about it?" He still tries to maintain the casual façade, replying with another question.

"Did you know it's a satanic symbol?" Not very accurate, but oh well…

"Really?" Aysha's brow furrows with weariness. This guy is beginning to creep her out.

_Could he possibly know…?_

"Yeah" he's eyeing her attentively now, searching for signs of understanding from her part. Anything to prove right his suspicions "Where d'ya get it?"

"I had it done by some guy who lives on a trailer in a side road in the middle of nowhere" she starts to back away now, ever so slowly "Why, you want one like it? You some kind of Satanist?"

He notices her unease and smiles inwardly. As she backs away, he starts to move towards her.

"Do you know what a Nephilim is?" he finally drops the bomb. Her eyes widen momentarily but, to her credit, she pulls herself together quickly.

"No sweet clue" her voice an icy whisper now "Now fuck off"

"Oh, I dunno… Some annoying little voice right here" he points at his head, still closing in on her "keeps telling me that you do know what it is. Am I wrong… _Alison?_"

Aysha decides that she's sick of this nerve wrecking game. She takes of running. As far as she knows, this guy could very well be a Cabal member.

The man needs no further proof. He takes out his Boran X and rushes after the girl. Young or not, she is definitely a Cabal member, if not a Nephilim.

_Nah… if she were a Nephilim I'd be dead by now._

He chases her through the darkened Parisian streets, constantly surprised by her speed and reminding himself to take a break from smoking.

She moves with the speed and the agility of a cat, soon leaving him far behind.

_Oh, to hell with discretion!_

The man aims his gun at the scurrying form and fires a few rounds. Of course he isn't expecting to hit his target from that distance but at least now she knows he means business.

Aysha got the message perfectly. She quickens her pace, if possible, even more, running for her life at a dazing speed.

She barely has time to ponder on the confusion that his actions bring.

_What's he doing! If he's Cabal then he's supposed to recapture me, not kill me!_

Without even thinking, she turns a narrow corner that leads her to a darkened path, ending in…

_A dead end! No fucking way!_

Panic begins to settle in. She'll have to fight him. She doesn't want to, though , she just wants to be left the hell alone…

The man turns the same corner, a smirk pulling at his lips when he spots the dead end.

_I've got you know honey…_

His expression breaks, however, when he takes a good look around. He spots a few trashcans, a couple of cardboard boxes, lots of dirt, a cat sitting casually on a wooden crate…

_Where the hell did that kid go!_

Angered, he kicks the cans, sending them flying towards the wall. The cat lets out an aggravated "meow" but he fully ignores it. Where could she have gone?

He curses in frustration. He's lost her.

"Bloody Nephilim!" he blurts out. Eyes glistening with anger, he turns around and heads for the exit of the alley, muttering to himself "She probably flew or something" with one last glance backwards to make sure, he wanders off.

These last words are clearly registered in the "cat's" brain, however. As she slowly morphs back and her figure becomes that of a human, a confusing thought bites at her brain.

_If he was Cabal, he would know that I can't fly.

* * *

_

Half an hour later finds the man smoking, looking absent-mindedly at the river Seine.

There aren't supposed to be anymore Nephilims. Where that kid came from, is a mystery to him. Either way, he has a problem. One that he thought had been solved months ago, but still a problem… but had it really been solved? The sleeper had been destroyed, that wasn't even to be questioned… was it?

As if on cue, a gust of wind throws a torn newspaper his way. He immobilizes it with his foot. On the cover, a large picture of a woman with brown eyes and a ponytail smiles back at him, accompanied by a caption in bold letters "Lady Croft cleared of all charges"

He sighs, blowing out a curl of grey smoke.

"Maybe it's time to pay Lara a visit… I need my Chirugai, anyway" Kurtis decides.

He drops the cigarette and crushes it under his boot, putting it out. As he walks away, he doesn't even bother to look back. Even if he had, it was very unlikely that he would have noticed a pair of bright blue eyes watching him with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity.

* * *

There.I hate it. It came out absolutely forced because I needed Kurtis and Aysha to meet before hepaid a visit to Croft manor. Oh well... I'll try to make the nextchapters better.Oh, and about Aysha: It's not as simple as you think it is lol


	4. Back from the dead

ok, so after the disgrace that was chapter 3, I though a compensation was due... so here's chapter 4 which (I think) is significantly better. Oh and as I think I didn't do a very good job of describing Aysha's tattoo, sojust imagine that symbol printed on Karel's palm, the one drawn in blood in all the monstrum crimes scenes.

ok, on with the chapter!

* * *

"Passengers of the flight to the UK please board immediately on Gate 6. Thank you" The monochord, almost a robotized voice, echoes through the walls of the airport. Along with the many souvenir shops' lights, it creates an ethereal, almost surreal environment as the passengers of the announced flight drowsily rise from their seats and drag themselves towards Gate 6. 

Kurtis sighs in relief and lifts his tired form from the bench he's been sitting on for the last two hours. With a long yawn, he works out the cramps that have formed all over his back and rubs his eyes in a sleepy trance.

He picks up his bag and follows the flow of passengers, heading towards the gate that will lead them to their plane.

His ears pick up a distant sound, one that belongs to the surreal universe behind him "Last call for passengers of the flight to the UK"

* * *

When he enters the plane, his eyes stop on the number painted in black bold letters just above one of the wings. 

His lips curve into a sarcastic smirk as he sets himself down on a seat.

_Gate 6, flight 66. _

What are the odds?

_A cursed journey, if you ask me._

But he's never been one for superstition, so he promptly shrugs off the thought.

He leans back against the chair and prepares to spend the next two hours sleeping soundly. Against his wishes, however, sleep won't come. Not that he isn't tired… he just can't fall asleep.

Something his father used to say crosses his mind "Some people can't sleep because they worry too much. Others can't sleep because they know they should be worrying more".

Kurtis frowns at the thought. Why is he thinking about his father right now? Nevertheless… he knows the old man was right.

_For a change._

He takes a moment to ponder over this. Is he taking things too lightly? Is he not being serious enough? There is, after all, a likely Nephilim on the loose… Should he be more concerned?

_What's the point in worrying? It doesn't solve anything…_

He knows he's right. He is taking action, that's what has to be done. Should he be worried about something else, though?

Of course. No point in pretending he isn't concerned… or at least apprehensive.

_Lara._

He's going to show up at her place tonight, after all, raised from the dead. A nasty shock for anybody.

How is he going to explain to her that he's been alive all this time, knowing where to find her, and hasn't even tried to contact her? Not once?

He frowns.

_It's not like she tried that hard to find me either. _

Deep inside, he knows he's being unfair. The woman has, after all, been answering to a process for murder, only being considered innocent recently. He needs, however, an excuse to justify his silence and that is the best he can come up with. It'll have to do.

* * *

The plane lands smoothly on Heathrow airport, the passengers being greeted with heavy rain and a freezing temperature. 

"Welcome to England!" the flight hostess says, a forced smile pulling at her lips.

Kurtis smiles his own sarcastic smirk, shrugs and heads out to the open space that leads to the place where he's supposed to pick up his luggage, receiving many shocked glares from the older passengers who are busily opening their umbrellas under the never ending rain.

* * *

"So, you American?" 

"Uh-huh" Kurtis replies for what seems like the seventieth time, trying in vain to ignore the annoying taxi driver's pointless attempts to make small talk.

He's been stuck in the middle of traffic in a cab for the last forty minutes with the most annoying driver in the world and an extremely mellow depressive song playing on the radio. His patience is wearing thin.

_Note to self: next time, go by boat so I can bring the bike._

"You here alone?" The little greasy haired man asks.

"Uh-huh"

"Going to stay long?"

"Uh-huh"

"Business or pleasure?"

"Uh-huh" The driver glances at him over the seat and Kurtis realises he must have said something stupid. Who cares.

"'Uh-huh' what?" the mousy man insists. Kurtis has to gather all of his self control to keep himself from punching the irritating creature. Instead, he places his hand on the back of the seat and says in a very controlled voice:

"Listen, mate, I'll make ya a deal, ok? I promise that I'll give you a hefty tip" a smile builds up in the man's skinny features "if you shut the hell up for the rest of the trip. 'kay?" The driver's expression breaks.

"Oh… right… yeah… ok…" he replies.

Kurtis sits back, sighing in relief.

"Thank you"

* * *

Twenty minutes later, they've made it through Surrey and are driving through a country road surrounded by grass fields. The taxi driver hasn't said another word, which Kurtis is grateful for. 

As they drive on, a massive brick construction begins to tower on the horizon. First just a little red dot in the distance, then a gigantic building surrounded by high walls.

Kurtis' eyes widen in surprise.

_Oh. My .Fucking. God._

He had known the woman was rich, but had never expected _this_.

The driver finally pulls up to the massive iron gates and Kurtis promptly shoves him the money displayed on the taximeter, grabs his bag and jumps out of the vehicle.

"Hey! What about my tip!" the man bellows.

"You just lost it" Kurtis retorts, not even bothering to look back. He grins as the man yells something concerning his manhood before driving off.

He takes a deep breath, taking in the building before him.

"Now, Lady Croft… I sure hope you believe in resurrection"

* * *

Winston leaves the kitchen, carrying a silver tray of tea and almost trips on The Cat on his way to indoors gym. It hisses in protest. 

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry, darling" the old Butler apologizes, almost dropping the tray "I wasn't looking at where I was going"

The Cat, apparently forgiving him, immediately goes to rub on his legs.

"Now now, darling" he scolds in a condescending way "I can't play with you right now, I have to take this tea to Lara" The Cat's fur stands up at the name and Winston rolls his eyes.

_No point in insisting, those two are a lost battle._

He continues towards the gym, crossing the archway to find his mistress energetically kicking a punch bag.

"I brought you tea and cookies, dear" he states loudly, attempting to be heard above all the kicking and grunting.

"Not hungry Winston, thanks" she answers, not even looking at him. Winston sets the tray down on the floor (more than accustomed to his mistress' practical ways by now) and gives her a concerned look.

"Lara, you have to eat something! You've barely touched your lunch, not to mention your breakfast, it went all to The Cat" an appreciative purr follows his statement "You haven't eaten all day! Please, Lara, you can't go on starving yourself like this…"

"I'm not – starving - myself" Lara replies in the middle of punches "I'm just – not – hungry"

"How can you possibly not be hungry after a whole day without food? You'll end up fainti…"

"Winston, please, end of discussion" she pleads, a note of authority in her voice however "This is pointless"

The old butler sighs and shakes his head. She's right, though. This is pointless.

_No one as stubborn as Lady Croft when she gets something inside her head._

Giving in, he turns away, half-heartedly giving her one last advice:

"At least turn in already, dear, you're overexerting yourself for someone who hasn't eaten"

Lara watches him disappear across the archway, her punching frenzy finally subsiding.

_Maybe he's right._

For once, she decides to follow his advice and grabs a towel from the floor, right next to the tray of tea. She smiles.

_Nice try, Winston._

Wiping the perspiration from her face with the towel, she shoves it over her shoulders. She notices The Cat looking greedily at the cookies.

"Help yourself" she says, using her foot to push the tray towards the hungry animal.

She leaves the gym, crosses the hall and starts to climb up the staircase, readying herself for a long steamy bath.

* * *

An hour later, Lara leaves the bathroom wrapped in only a peach coloured towel, her wet hair draped over her shoulders. She feels much more relaxed now, all the tension having been unleashed with the help of both the punch bag and the bath. She lazily changes into her pajamas, already awaiting her folded on top of a chair. 

Sighing contentedly, she falls back onto her bed and just lies there, listening to the crackling of the fire that Winston had the good sense of lighting. She suddenly lacks the energy to stand up or do anything else. It's like the world has stopped right there and then, she just wants to stay there and be rocked to sleep by the flames of the fireplace. No other sounds to be heard. Sweet silent world.

The silence is, however, short-lived.

Only a couple of seconds passed, a dry snapping noise jolts her awake from her trance. She slowly, sits up, ears sharp for any further sounds.

_There. Again._

'Snap'

_Winston?_

No, of course not. The noise is coming from outside. She silently takes one Uzi from underneath her pillow and moves towards the balcony window.

Sliding it open.

She peers at the backyard outside, her eyes searching for something, she isn't sure what. Movement, a shadow, something out place… Then she sees it. A broken branch hanging from a tree directly in front of the library window.

_There's the 'snap'._

The window is, of course, hanging open.

_Someone's inside. _

Her eyes turn to slits and she hurries out of the bedroom. Crossing the hallway with swift steps, stopping right in front of the library door. Gripping the gun tightly, controlled breathing.

Heart beating madly, she pushes the door open just far enough to get a glance of the room inside through a crack.

Seems empty.

_Which, of course, means absolutely nothing._

Taking a deep breath, she pushes the door open all the way and enters the room, gun held high in front of her.

_Empty._

The fireplace is also lit, casting the bookshelves and the other furniture in an orange glow, wavering due to the breeze seeping in through the open window.

She peruses the room, still unconvinced but finds nothing out of the ordinary. Frustrated, she drops the gun and makes to close the window.

_Maybe Winston left it open… Maybe The Cat broke the branch…_

She stops dead in her tracks, however, when she feels cold metal pressed against the back of her neck.

A mocking voice sounds, close to her ear:

"Is it just me, or this is getting a bit old?"

Lara freezes, all thoughts of where the hell he had come from being dropped as she recognizes the voice.

"K-Kurtis!"

Oh God, she's stammering.

"Hello Lara" he replies, amusement clear in his voice. Completely forgetting about the gun trained on her head, she turns around to face him. He doesn't stop her, but his grip on the gun doesn't waver. They just look at each other for a few seconds. Then Lara states, blankly:

"You're dead"

Kurtis blinks a couple of times.

"Last time I checked, I was quite alive…" he pinches his arm, as if to make sure "Ow. Yep, very much alive" Lara stares at him for another moment. She's not sure if she should hug him or punch him, so she settles for a middle term.

"WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN ALL THIS TIME?" she yells suddenly, surprising even herself. Kurtis almost drops the gun, surprised the sudden outburst but she doesn't stop "ALL ALONG, ALL THIS TIME YOU'VE BEEN ALIVE AND KICKING! FOUR MONTHS, FOUR! NO PHONECALL, NO LETTER, NOT A BLOODY MESSAGE! NO SATISFACTIONS OF ANY KIND TO SOMEONE WHO'S BEEN READING ALL THE NEWSPAPER'S HEADLINE'S TO SEE IF THEY HAD FOUND YOUR CORPSE!" she stops to catch her breath, looking at a dumfounded Kurtis "I'm sorry" she finally says. She's sounding a little hoarse right now. It doesn't surprise neither of them "It's not like you owe me any satisfactions about your life or anything" she adds coldly.

Kurtis gulps loudly and finally decides to cut in. The gun has been hanging loosely from his hand at his side for a while now.

"Listen, Lara… I…" he seems at a loss of words "…I was recovering"

Lara glares at him with disbelief.

_That is probably the most lame-assed excuse I've ever heard._

He seems to agree, as he stammers:

"I… I had some things to…" in a blink of an eye, he has composed himself, unreadable mask back in place "… to tend to" she is about to retort but he doesn't give her the chance "And it's not like you tried that hard to find me anyway. I was in the hospital for at least a month"

She can't believe what she's hearing.

_The nerve of that…_

"Kurtis, darling" she starts in a venomous voice "I spent a week in the hospital. The moment I left, I was dragged into a police car and taken to the station for questioning. I've spent the last three months in courtrooms, attending judgements to prove my innocence in the Monstrum case. The moment I came home, I started to call every single hospital in Prague to know if they had tended to a 'Kurtis Trent'…"

"Ever crossed your mind that I might have given a false name?"

"AND WHAT THE HELL WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO?" she screams again. Her eyes are gleaming with anger. Kurtis only stares at her. She can see the conflicting emotions in his azure orbs, but knows he won't back down if only for the sake of winning the argument. Why doesn't he just tell her that he wanted time alone!

Just as she thinks he's about to answer, his eyes widen in surprise at something behind her. Following his gaze towards the window, she only has time to catch a glimpse of ebony hair with a flare of red vanishing from sight.

"Oh shit!" she hears him mutter. In the next second, he's passed her and jumping through the window to grab hold of the branches of the nearby tree.

'Snap'

'Thump'

Lara rushes to the windowsill, peering at the darkness below with concern.

"Are you alright?" she shouts.

_You'd think that after the first time he'd understand that those branches can't hold his weight…_

A loud "Aaw fuck!" resounds in the quietness of the night, somewhere below her. She grins.

_He's alright._

Cursing all the while, Kurtis stands up, rubbing his aching back. He turns just in time to see Lara's graceful landing beside him.

No 'snaps'.

He snorts, pretending not to see Lara's smug grin in the dark, and walks away, drawing his gun. Lara rushes to catch up.

"What did you see?" she asks him when she finally manages to. He says nothing. Stealthily pacing through the garden, scanning his surroundings feverishly. All of a sudden, he stops. Lara also picks a movement, up ahead, behind a bush.

"Keep your gun at the ready" is all he tells her. The next moment, he's gone from her side. Lara blinks a couple of times, confused, but does as he tells her.

She can hear nothing but the night's breeze, even the sound of his footsteps is gone.

Silent world again.

_Not so sweet this time, though._

Suddenly, without warning of any kind, a slim shadow jumps out of the bush, a larger one after it that Lara immediately identifies as Kurtis.

Without even thinking, her gun is aimed at the first figure. Kurtis does the same, behind it. A deep sound erupts from the figures throat.

_Was that… a growl?_

"Gotcha, you little bitch!" Kurtis states triumphantly. The 'little bitch' growls louder.

"If you get one step closer, I'll rip your guts out! Gun or not, I swear I will!" Aysha spits.

_Will you look at that. It talks._

Kurtis sniggers.

"Yeah, I gather you Cabal people seem to have some fetish for that…" he retorts, voice tinged with sarcasm.

Slowly, Aysha's fighting stance disappears, and Lara can hear the confusion in her voice.

" 'You Cabal people'?" she asks "I thought _you_ were Cabal!"

"Me? Cabal? You're the one with the Nephilim symbol on your neck!"

Completely ignoring his last statement, Aysha insists:

"If you're not Cabal, then who are you?"

"I'm Kurtis Trent, the last living member of the Lux Veritatis" he replies impatiently.

"You're… Lux? Honest?"

"Hey, hello!" Lara interrupts "I'm here, anyone mind filling me in? What's going on?"

"I don't know" Kurtis answers "But I sure as hell would like to find out. Who are you, kid?"

* * *

I think Aysha has some explaining to do, don't you? the next chapter will probably take a while. 

I'll apreciate it if you take time to review!


	5. Proto Nephili

Hi again! This chapter took me longer than I had originally planned. My excuse? Inspiration overload. This was as far as I had planned the story, but last tuesday my muse decided to dump a HUGE amount of ideas on me, so I had a whole plot to sort through and a lot of elements to link together. And then, of course, I'm very lazy :P

Many thanks for your reviews, **Ellethiel**, **AKKON** and **spitfire511**! Special thanks to **AKKON** for her continuous support and for not letting me quit :P

This chapter won't clarify all the questions, but Aysha still has some things to explain... and then, of course, she doesn't know everything...

Enough talking, here's the chapter:

* * *

The resounding echo of the grandfather's clock fills the enormous space of the manor with its solemn, almost eerie midnight tune. Even though all the lights are on, no sound can be heard in the seemingly empty halls. No sound except, that is, for the steady tapping noise coming from the general direction of the dinning room. 

'Tap' ' Tap' 'Tap'

The noise persists, now almost perfectly matching the clock's ticking.

'Tap' 'Tap' 'Tap'

It's irritating her so, and she's not the one with a reason to be nervous…

Lara sits on one of the dining hall chairs, her elbows casually resting on the table, hands folded in front of her mouth. She sits, of course, at the head of the long oak table.

_Where else._

She is, after all, the host and the owner of the house. A fact that, she thinks, her two unexpected guests need desperately to be reminded of.

_Mostly because no one has had the kindness of explaining to me what the hell is going on…_

She sighs heavily, trying to block out the annoying tapping. Two seats to her left, the weird girl whose name (at least _that_ she has been told) is Aysha sits, slumped in a chair. She has the look of a trapped animal, looking desperately for a way out, staring intently at her and Kurtis. He sits on the table, his feet casually resting on a chair, eyes never leaving Aysha. His gun isn't trained on her any longer, but he still holds it in his hand, hitting the table with it in a monotonous rhythm.

'Tap' 'Tap' 'Tap'

An obvious attempt to unnerve the girl, Lara thinks.

_Well, it surely is unnerving **me**._

As Kurtis apparently decides that Aysha is nervous enough, he leans a bit towards her.

"Well?" he demands. She sighs in annoyance, but gives in.

"First I need to know what you know…"

"Where I come from, the guy with the gun asks the questions" Kurtis interrupts. She glares daggers at him.

"Where I come from, the guy with the gun is a walking, talking and shooting meal" she replies blankly, however with an evil little glare in her eyes. A light grin pulls at Kurtis' lips.

"Well, that takes us back to the main point, don't it? Where do you come from? Who-are-you?" he pronounces the words very carefully and slowly, as if talking to a retarded person.

Aysha shifts uncomfortably in her seat.

"I told you, first I need to know what you…"

"Why don't you just assume that we know nothing and tell us the whole story?" Lara intervenes, sick of being left in the sidelines. Kurtis gives her a brief appreciative look, before turning back to Aysha.

"All you need to know is that we were responsible for destroying the Sleeper. Now spit it out" he orders.

Aysha takes a deep breath. Lara can tell she is mentally counting to ten.

"Fine" she hisses. Then she sinks a little further in her seat and averts her gaze from Kurtis' "Do you guys know what a proto is?"

"Go on" Kurtis instructs. Lara gives him a puzzled look, which he returns with one of his own that clearly says 'I'll explain later'. Aysha, however, seems unsure about the truth in his answer.

"Yeah, but do you really know? I mean, have you ever seen a proto?"

"I've seen _the_ proto. I killed it" he elaborates. Aysha's brow furrows in confusion at the statement. Then a flicker of understanding settles in her eyes.

"Oh, you've seen _the_ proto! That freak puppy thing, right?" she asks.

Kurtis nods slowly. Lara can tell he isn't liking the course of this conversation one bit.

"Right…" Aysha continues "That one was a failed experiment…"

"_That one_?" Kurtis hisses, leaning forward even further.

"Well… yeah… he was supposed to be destroyed and all, didn't come out right…"

"You said 'that one'" he insists, impatience clear in his voice "You mean there's more?" Aysha sighs again. Then she lifts her head to face him. With a determined expression, she continues:

"The main purpose of the Cabal has always been to revive the Nephilim race, as I'm sure you know. To do that, they have stopped at nothing to reunite the five pieces of the Sanglyph, necessary to awaken the Cubiculum Nephili… do you follow?"

Kurtis nods.

"Right… but that was never an easy task to perform. They had nasty little holy brotherhoods on their tail, such as the Lux there. They spent centuries in never ending quarrels without ever getting the paintings. So… they decided they needed a quicker solution to their problem of creating an army of all powerful Nephilims to conquer the world: they turned to science. Genetic, more precisely."

"Yeah, we know all that, that's where the proto thing came from, blah blah blah… Move along a bit" Kurtis pushes.

"Ok, ok, fine, keep your pants on" Aysha retorts, irritated "The Proto, as you know, was the first of many specimens created by combining Nephilim DNA with, in this case, animal one. It was the first one who survived, at least.

The experiment was, however, a failure. They couldn't control their puppy, he wasn't smart enough to receive orders; whenever he was loose he'd have fun peeing on the carpets, jumping on people, licking and ripping throats out… the works. So they decided Neph DNA with animal one was out of the equation. Eckhardt had Boaz destroy it, which, as you know, she didn't do… And they moved on to the next stage. Human and Neph DNA"

Both Kurtis and Lara double their attention by this point. Aysha takes another deep breath.

"Why don't we just skip the methods and experiments, which I happen to be completely ignorant about, and go straight to the point?" she gestures dismissively "They made it"

A thick and heavy silence falls down and settles on the room. No one seems capable of uttering a word. Kurtis and Lara, processing; Aysha, carefully choosing the next words. She finally seems to settle for the pure and simple truth:

"I am number five. The fifth element of a group of seven successful _experiments_" bitterness tinges the word as it leaves her lips "created by combining human and Nephilim DNA with the objective of making the Cabal's little private army" She seems out of breath all of a sudden, the words dying in her throat. She lowers her head again. The silence descends once more.

No tapping this time. Only the steady ticking of the clock.

Lara's brain seems unable to process the information it has just received. There are seven lethal Proto Nephilims freely roaming the streets By destroying the Strahov complex, she had set them free…

_Oh God…._

"But how?"is all Kurtis manages to choke out. Lara glances at him out of the corner of her eye. For a moment, he seems to be having trouble in keeping his usual cool façade.

Aysha shrugs.

"Genetic manipulation, in vitro breeding… beats me. All I know is they made it. They came up with seven perfectly healthy proto babies. The only disadvantage: being only a quarter Nephilim, our powers are very limited. They aren't a half of the original Nephilim's ones and they take much longer to be developed…"

"What are your powers?" Lara asks abruptly, as if this vital little gem of information would help her understand the creature in front of her.

"Well… we're shape shifters, we can conjure energy bolts and use them against our enemies… we have superior brain power… in theory at least" she rolls her eyes and grins, apparently at some private joke "we have a small amount of control over the elements and we are over sensitive, meaning that we can perceive human feelings and natural disturbances with relative ease"

Kurtis just glares at her in disbelief. He asks the only logical question that happens to be crossing both his and Lara's mind at that moment:

"If that's all true, then why are we still alive?"

She shrugs again.

"I got nothing against you, really"

"Excuse me?" Lara cuts in, eyebrows irked in surprise and mild amusement at the girl's nerve.

"Well, thanks to you guys the sleeper went bye-bye and so did the great work… there's no more Strahov, no more Cabal, and me and my siblings are free. In fact, I should thank you"

"What about the whole taking over the world thing?" Kurtis retorts.

"I couldn't possibly care less about it. Listen, you don't get in my way, I don't get in yours. Everyone lives happily ever after"

"That is, of course, if we choose to believe you" Lara points out. Aysha allows a grin to grace her features.

"Of course, Lady Croft. I'm afraid all you have is my word, though. If it isn't enough…" The conversation is interrupted by an accusatory 'meow' coming from the dinning room entrance. Lara looks up to see her butler standing there, wearing a robe, The Cat leaning against his leg.

"Lara! Is everything alright?" he asks, concern more than evident in his voice. Lara stands up abruptly.

"Winston! I… yes, of course, don't worry. These people, they… they're my friends" she hastily grabs both of her guests by the arm and drags them towards the butler. Before they can utter a complaint of any kind, she starts with the introductions "This is Kurtis, Winston, from Paris. Remember I told you about him? And this Aysha, she's…" she digs deep into her brain for a convincing excuse, before her eyes stop on the similar blue eyes of the pair and on their dark hair. She has a sudden inspiration "…his sister! Kurtis and his sister! You guys, this is Winston"

Kurtis just glares for a moment, dumbfounded. Aysha, however, takes the cue with remarkable quickness.

"Hi, how're ya doin'?" she greets happily "It's nice to meet you at last, Winston! Lara told us a lot about you!"

"Really?" the butler asks, surprised "Well, it's nice to meet you too… Aysha. And you too Mr. Trent"

"Uhm… yeah, you too" Kurtis answers, awkwardly shaking hands with him. Winston throws Lara and the clock an inquisitive look and she realises it's time she came up with a good reason for why she's dressed in her pyjamas, talking to her two guests in the dinning hall at three in the morning. Aysha beats her to it, however.

"I'm sorry about the late hour, but you won't believe those bloody French planes! We were supposed to arrive at eleven! Eleven, fancy that!" Winston chuckles in sympathy and Lara sighs in relief as she realises he's buying it. The last thing she wants right now is to concern old Winston with Nephilim issues… And that Aysha kid seems to be a quick thinker… It may come in handy if…

_What am I thinking? She's a Nephilim! Well, as good as…_

Dismissing the thought, she takes the lead and cuts in:

"Yeah, fancy that, they had to wait four whole hours. Sorry Winston, I forgot to tell you they were coming"

_A four hour delay? Oh please, that's ridiculous! Not even the most naïve innocent guy would…_

"Oh, these airports are a mess these days, they are. Four hours! Will you just look at that!" Winston agrees.

_Never mind that…_

"Should I prepare two rooms for our guests, madam?" the butler asks. Lara rolls her eyes at him.

"Winston, for the last time in god knows how many years, stop calling me that" She scolds "And yes, please do prepare two rooms. Sorry about the time…"

"It's quite alright, dear" he assures her. Then he turns to Kurtis "Your rooms will be ready in a moment, if you would be so kind as to wait a few minutes…"

"Uh… yeah, of course, take your time… thanks" he replies, still a bit stunned. Winston bows slightly (earning a disapproving glance from his mistress) and hurries up the stairs.

As soon as Lara turns around, Kurtis is in front of her.

"His _sister?_" he repeats incredulously. Lara does her best to suppress a chuckle.

"Consider yourself lucky. I could've said she was your daughter" she deadpans. Kurtis is about to answer back, but she doesn't give him the chance "Oh, just let it go. Listen, you and I have a lot to talk about. But for now I think we should all get some rest"

Kurtis dares a glance back to find, with mild surprise, that Aysha is ducked on the floor, all her attention on the black cat. He leans closer to Lara.

"What about that kid?" he asks, keeping his voice low. Lara also stares at Aysha, unsure.

"Well… she did tell us who she really was… I mean, why would she do it if she was on the Cabal's side?"

"To gain our trust?" Kurtis offers. Lara twists her nose.

"I can think of at least a thousand different stories that would have been infinitely more trust-inspiring"

He shrugs.

"You think she's tellin' the truth then? That she doesn't want anything to do with the Cabal? You gonna trust a Nephilim just like that?"

"I don't know, ok? I never said I trusted her!" Lara retorts, aggravated "All I'm saying is that she doesn't appear to represent any immediate danger. I think we should give her the benefit of the doubt"

"Which is?"

"I'll let her stay here tonight. The both of you. There's _a lot_ more that we need to talk about… tomorrow. For now, lets get some sleep, it's bloody three a.m."

Kurtis gives her a displeased look, but complies.

_Go figure… the moron's realised that he's in no position to argue with me tonight. Good for him._

Lara nods. She turns around to find Aysha ducked, delightedly petting an extremely happy black fur ball. She doesn't know if she should be surprised by her behaviour or The Cat's. Either way, she has no time or patience for musings.

"Bed time" she states bluntly. Aysha looks up at her and Lara feels the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

_I'll be damned if she isn't looking at me just like that cat…_

As if to corroborate her thoughts, The Cat also gives her the same pointed look. Aysha's expression soon turns into one of confusion, however.

"Bed?" she asks "You lettin' me stay?"

"For tonight. This conversation is far from over" Lara replies firmly. Aysha just stares at her, dumbfounded.

"You trusting me?"

"We'll see" Lara has to try her best to keep a grin from tugging at her lips, the familiarity of the words taking her back four months, to the Strahov airlock where the first proper exchange with her stalker had occurred. Her expression promptly turns bitter, however, due to the thoughts of that man.

_Of that bastard son of his mother who's left me FOUR WHOLE MONTHS thinking that he was dead… Oh he WILL be dead soon enough. Not before he tells me everything, though._

"Yeah, it's time for children to go to bed" the mentioned man adds, walking up to Lara's side. Aysha seems like she is about to reply, but decides against it at the last moment. As she stands up, Kurtis continues "We have a lot more talking to do tomorrow morning. Right now, bed"

Aysha gives The Cat one last longing glance before following them upstairs.

* * *

"What's her name?" she asks Lara as they are about to enter one of the many doors on the second floor. 

"Huh?"

"The cat! What's her name?"

Lara shrugs.

"I haven't named her yet" Aysha looks at her, incredulous, as if Lara had said the most unethical and unthinkable thing in the world.

"You haven't named her? But she's yours, right?"

"Yeah, so?"

"So how come you haven't named her?"

Lara blows, annoyed.

"Look, you name her if you want" she finally says "Now go on, that's your room"

Aysha stares at the door and then back at her hostess.

"You serious?"

Lara looks at the door, confused.

"Yeah, go in! What's wrong with it?"

"No! I mean about the cat… can I actually name her?"

"Be my guest" Lara answers "Just move along now, will you?"

Making a poor job of hiding a happy smile, Aysha turns the door knob and enters the room.

Kurtis wastes no time in closing the door behind her.

"And don't even think about getting cute" he warns as Lara withdraws a small bronze key from a keychain and locks the door.

* * *

Aysha hears the clicking of the lock behind her and her lips curve in a sarcastic scowl. 

_Cautious little humans… good for them._

She allows herself a moment to take in her surroundings: a spacious room with pastel walls, peach coloured carpet and a large double bed.

_Niiiiice!_

Looking around as if to make sure she is alone, she runs to the bed and jumps on it, squealing like a little girl.

After a moment of childish enthusiastic bouncing, she sits still, coughing.

_Put yourself together, Ysha, you're supposed to be a blood thirsty killing machine… oooooh fireplace!_

All rational thoughts dissipated by the sight of the flames crackling in the recently spotted fireplace, she jumps out of the bed and goes to sit in front of it. Some dumb, almost animal magnetism draws her to the fireplace and she just sits there for a while.

In one of the parts of her brain, the only coherent thoughts are things resembling '_Fire pretty'_ or _'Here be warm'_. In the other part, however, in the one that is always working no matter what, a whole line of thought is unrolling, too fast to even be elaborated.

_They killed the Sleeper. They're good. But the guy's Lux .Lux don't like Nephilims. I'm a Nephilim. This bad. _

Still watching the flames absent-mindedly, she tugs on a loose strand of red hair. Her eyes focus on the lock and she twists her nose at the excessively bright coloration.

Her pathetic attempt to add a little colour to otherwise dull, black and white features. You could literally say that Aysha is all black and white; natural dark raven hair, extremely pale skin accentuated by her usual choice of dark clothing… only her bright blue orbs stand out, besides her recent red acquisition, of course.

A long sigh escapes full lips, leaning her head on her hand. The by now usual powerless feeling washes over her tired body, beaten and sore from travelling on the plane's cargo compartment for a whole travelling hour (plus the two hours the plane stood still, awaiting to take off).

_Note to self: in the future, wait for the passengers' boarding call to sneak into the luggage compartment…_

She closes her eyes briefly, trying to fight the numbness that menaces to take over her body and mind. No matter how hard she tries, however, the familiar every night question surfaces from the sub-conscious part of her brain.

_What now?_

She blows in frustration, lifting a couple of red locks that are hanging in front of her eyes.

_Now nothing. Lets see how this develops…_

She can only wait. Wait and hope that she can find a way to prove to the humans that's she isn't just some freak experiment from hell.

As she stands up, she shakes herself mentally.

One of the vital steps if she wants to get along with them would be to stop calling them 'humans'.

_Right… It's Lara… and…_

She digs in her memory to come up with the Lux Veritatis warrior's name.

…_Kurtis! That's it, Kurtis._

Aysha can't hide her displeasure towards the cocky and annoying male, not to mention the fact that he's a Nephilim hating member of a holy order.

_And a prick._

She digs into the room's closet for some white (and slightly oversized) pyjamas, as a long yawn disperses her thoughts. She drowsily changes, leaving her clothes scattered all over the floor.

She slips into the bed, vaguely musing at how soft the covers are. As she is about to slip into unconsciousness, her thoughts fly to her scarce luggage, lying somewhere in the garden outside, behind a bush.

* * *

Kurtis turns around in his own bed in what seems like the twentieth time. He blinks in the dark, trying to make out the blurry numbers on the bedside table alarm clock. 

4:30

He sighs. Another sleepless night. What the hell is wrong with him now? He talked to her! What else does he need to stop feeling so damn restless?

**_Ah, but did you actually talk to her?_** A little voice on the back of his mind taunts.

His brow furrows. Of course he did! He was talking to her when…

_**When the Nephilim came along…** _the voice answers _**And even before that…** **did you two actually 'talk'? Coz that sounded dreadfully like a married couple's senseless argument to me…**_

_Oh, shut up!_

Kurtis finally decides that whoever that little someone is, it needs to be put back in its place. It seems, however, that the voice doesn't intend to go away…

**_What, am I lying? Do you actually think that you don't need another conversation? That you don't need to clear things up?_**

_Will you SHUT UP?_

_**Go talk to her.**_

_She's probably asleep._

_**Go. Now.**_

_If I go, will you leave me the hell alone?_

_**Possibly.**_

"Alright!" he exclaims out loud. He jumps out of bed, fuelled by restlessness and annoyance.

_You realise you're loosing it when you start talking to yourself at 4:30 in the morning because of some woman…_

He stops abruptly. He doesn't like that last little shred of thought one bit. Since when does a woman make him feel the need to justify himself?

Frowning, he continues at a slow pace through the hallway towards her room.

His last hope of finding her asleep and, therefore, having a reason to turn back, dies as he notices that the library's lights are on.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he heads that way.

* * *

Lara sits on the windowsill, contemplating the darkened garden outside. The harsh wind whips the trees merciless, making them sway precariously in a frenetic dance of dark shadows and falling leaves. 

A book rests on her lap, but she can't even gather the presence of mind to read it.

It's late. Very late. She should be asleep, getting ready for another day of explanations and, to her dismay, confrontations.

No matter how hard she tries, she can't stop the thought from haunting her mind.

_It would be so much easier if he had actually died…_

She feels horrible for thinking that, but can't help it. It's what she feels.

_Four months…_

Four. More than enough time to convince her that he was gone. More than enough time to accept, once again, that the people around her keep falling down like toy soldiers. Trembling little flickers of joy, gone as soon as the wind blows. The wind that she always stands in.

Even when she tries to escape it, the wind still blows against her. However, some sick irony of destiny dictates that she will not be the one blown away, but those around her. Always alone, watching the others come and go like short-lived little butterflies. No more than dream butterflies. Not there long enough to be real.

There was a time, however, when the wind did almost blow her away. A sandy, warm, skin-cutting southern wind that always brings back memories of darkness and claustrophobia. Of pain and fear. Of Egypt.

She shudders involuntarily.

"It's cold" she tells herself. She needs an excuse.

Trying for so long to gather that numbness, that coldness that would allow her to go through the wind unscathed, indifferent to the ones being blown away around her.

Werner had spoiled that four months ago. Kurtis had spoiled it now.

_Why couldn't he just stay dead?_

A shuddering breath escapes her lips.

_Why couldn't I just have died instead of him?_

She will never give voice or action to that thought. Never will she admit it to anybody. She doesn't blame herself, though. Everyone has the right to be tired. Tired of standing in the wind.

A soft knock draws her away from her depressing thoughts and she turns around to find Kurtis leaning against the library door, his eyes asking for permission.

"Come in" she says, a little too weakly for her own liking.

He enters the room, dragging his feet and goes to stand beside her, glancing through the window.

"So…" he tries after a few moments of contemplating.

"So…"

"So… how're you doin'?" Lara glares at him a little surprised by the question, trying to figure out just exactly what he's referring to. Deciding that he must mean it as a casual 'how're you doin', she shrugs and replies:

"Fine. You?"

"Fine" he replies after a moment of hesitation. She can tell it wasn't what he meant to ask.

_Not the casual 'how're you doin' then…_

Oh well. She'll play dumb for a while. Not that she feels like talking to him, anyway…

"Listen, I…" hesitation again. He's struggling for words, she can tell "…about earlier, I…"

"You nothing" she finally completes "Nothing forces you to give me any explanations"

He sighs deeply.

"Look Lara, I was away coz I needed to be. I'm not gonna tell you why coz there's no single reason and I'm not gonna tell you where coz, honestly, that's my problem"

"I never needed you to tell me where. Or why"

"Then WHAT did you need, goddamit?" he blurts out, unable to keep calm any longer "Why the hell do you keep treating me like I left you down or something?"

She stands up, her chocolate orbs piercing into his azure ones with glacial coldness.

"You didn't let me down. That would mean that, at some point, I had expected more from you. I never did" she pauses to breathe "I never wanted you to tell me where or why. Nothing. Just a note, a bloody note, just a sign that you were alive! IS IT THAT BLOODY HARD TO UNDERSTAND?"

He stares at her, his coldness matching her own.

"Why?" he asks blankly.

"WHY? Because I thought you were dead! And you weren't! Do you need any more reasons?" She'll never, _ever_ admit that she was sick worried about him, not to that smug bastard. Instead, she prefers to deal with the subject as if he should have called her as a matter of common courtesy.

"Why didn't you look for me in the hospital?" he retorts "Three months. Don't tell me that you didn't have a couple of minutes in between those trials to phone the hospitals in Prague, not those many you know? You could even have had your butler do it for you, I mean…"

"WELL MAYBE I DIDN'T WANT TO CALL A HOSPITAL TO BE TOLD THAT THEY HAD YOUR CORPSE THERE, WAITING TO BE CLAIMED!" she shouts, unable to keep it in any longer "Maybe I didn't want to know" she concludes quietly.

She hadn't even admitted this to herself yet, not even in her deepest thoughts, and a weird feeling washes through her: on the one hand, she feels like a tremendous weight has just been lifted from her shoulders. On the other, she feels ashamed for having confessed to him that she had refused to believe in his death, that she had clung to the hope that he was alive.

She slumps on a chair, facing away from him. Suddenly the room seems to have taken to spinning slightly.

Kurtis can do nothing but stare at her, an unreadable emotion gleaming in his eyes. If anything, she can tell that he is just as surprised as her.

At least he's sensible enough not to probe her any further. As graciously as anyone in a similar situation can get, he turns around and leaves the library, a nearly inaudible 'good night' escaping his lips as he closes the door behind him.

* * *

There! And yes, Aysha gets a little... different when she isn't under pressure :P 

Liked it? Say so. Hated it? Say so. Please, review, this is my first fic and I would really like to know what I'm doing wrong! All reviews welcome, even bad ones.

The next chapter will be up as soon as I figure out a name for 'The Cat' lol Sugestions welcome too!


	6. Hellcat

The first rays of the morning sunlight timidly pierce the window's glass, tearing their way through the linen curtains and finally going to rest on an extremely tired feminine face.

Lara covers her head with an arm, a feeble attempt to block out the aggressive light. No success whatsoever. In fact, the gesture's only result is forcing her to become aware of the throbbing pain on her back.

Slowly and unwillingly, she lifts heavy eyelids and shifts slightly. The world comes into focus before blurry eyes. A fireplace… a desk… a bookshelf… a book shelf?

_What the…_

She sits up abruptly, only to find that she is in the library, on the same chair where she had sat in the previous night. Her book lies forgotten on the floor, apparently dropped last night as sleep took over.

She picks it up and yawns tiredly, stretching her cramped muscles as she rubs an eye.

Deciding that she needs to wake up, have a bath and change, she pulls the curtains aside in a sudden gesture, squinting at the brightness. The weather has improved. At least outside.

* * *

Bathed and refreshed, Lara walks slowly down the staircase towards the kitchen, deciding it is about time to eat something. She stops in her tracks, however, as she hears two masculine voices coming from the said division. One of them belongs undoubtedly to her butler and the other, much to her displeasure, to her unwanted guest. 

_Why can't the asshole just sleep till late, like a good typical male?_

Measuring her options, she decides she isn't in the mood for another confrontation and turns back, heading the way she came.

She needs an excuse. Something that would give her (and him) a reason not to bring up last night's conversation.

_Winston's there… hum… discretion?_

Nah. Of course not. The butler would leave the moment he noticed the tension between them, deciding to let them sort things out on their own.

Definitely not an option.

The solution hits her as she passes one of the many doors that grant entrance to the various guest rooms. A door that, incidentally, still remains locked.

_Surely he won't bring it up in front of a teenager… A Nephilim one, especially…_

Grinning to herself, she knocks lightly on the door.

No response.

She knocks again, a little harder this time.

Nothing.

"Aysha?"

Silence.

Annoyed and a little apprehensive, she digs into her pockets for the keychain and unlocks the door. Cautiously, she pushes it open and peers into the room.

Everything seems to be in its place, nothing odd to be noted… except…

_And this is just what I need right now…_

In the middle of the floor lies a bundle of bed clothes composed by a thick blanket, part of a sheet (the rest of it is still on the bed) and a pillow. Under it, a sparkle of red hair can be, hardly, spotted.

"Aysha" Lara calls again, loud enough to be heard.

"Hum…" is the only reply. The bundle shifts slightly.

Lara rolls her eyes heavenwards.

"Good morning Aysha…"

"Hum…" more shifting.

"I said GOOD MORNING AYSHA!"

"HEY! Take it easy, will ya? Jeez…" An extremely dishevelled head pops out from between the clothes, eyes clouded by sleep. Aysha yawns lazily, stretching like a cat.

"Whattimeisit?" she asks in a barely perceivable dragged voice.

"9:30" Lara replies, checking the bedside-table clock "Up!" She orders, pulling the covers from on top of the lazy proto.

"Ok, ok! I'm awake! What's the bloody rush?"

"No rush. Simply, this house has schedules"

_Right. And you've got a lot of moral to talk about that, don't you Croft?_

"Hell, you sound like a forty year old house-wife…"

"Why thank you" Lara retorts sarcastically "Juts out of pure curiosity, may I ask what you were doing on the floor?"

Aysha looks around, as if noticing her condition for the first time. A casual shrug.

"Messy sleeper?" she offers.

"Right… Just hurry up, breakfast will be ready in ten"

With that she turns around and makes to leave the room. Just as she is about go through the door, Aysha's cough stops her.

"Yes?" she demands, turning around.

"Erhm… what am I supposed to wear?"

Lara blinks a couple of times. Then she remembers that the girl didn't seem to have brought anything along with her when they had found her in the garden.

"Don't you have any luggage on you?" she asks, surprised.

"Er… I have a couple of things lying in the garden, but none of them are clothes"

Lara shrugs, letting out a patient sigh.

"Just wear something of mine then. I'll go get it…" she is, once again, stopped by a pointed cough. A little more than annoyed, she again turns to face her guest.

"Yesss, Aysha?"

"Humm… no offence or anything… but I'm not sure if something of yours would fit me" she seems kind of embarrassed in pointing this out "Coz, you know, with you being taller and bigger…"

"_Bigger?_"

"Well, yeah, mostly up there…" Aysha gestures vaguely to her chest.

Lara glares at her, incredulous with the little brat's nerve. If looks could kill, Aysha would certainly be ten feet under right now…

"I'll be back with the clothes in a second" Lara replies, her tone as icy as ever.

She walks through the door promptly, leaving a very embarrassed Aysha looking at the ground.

"Yeah… thanks"

* * *

The breakfast goes by without any incidents. As Lara has predicted, Kurtis doesn't bring up their disturbing late night conversation in front of Aysha. Actually, he doesn't even seem to be willing to talk much… except for that comment on the proto's 'oversized outfit'. 

The other thing to be noted, this one with a little surprise on Lara's behalf, is that Winston and Aysha seem to be getting along quite well. They have spent the whole morning talking and sharing jokes, just out of the blue.

Winston appears to find her quite amusing and she seems to like the old butler as well. And then, Lara knows, they share the liking for that beast of a cat of hers.

Speaking of which…

_The little pest has been too quiet this morning… what's it up to?_

Curiously, Lara peeks out of the kitchen door into the main hall.

_This is way too quiet._

She takes a cautious step towards a small area where she has recently placed a couple of couches (in pretty bad shape by now) and her jaw drops in disbelief.

There, among shreds of fabric, a river of feathers and remnants of cushions, sits The Cat with the most satisfied look in the world. It sits on what's left of a satin cushion, proudly standing on it as if it were a trophy.

Lara just can't believe her eyes.

_It's purring. The little beast is PURRING!_

"WINSTON!"

* * *

The scream echoes throughout the entire house and the three people in the kitchen immediately rush to the main hall to check what is wrong. 

Aysha is the first to get there and, after a few moments of processing the sight, she bursts in laughter, covering her mouth to no avail.

Kurtis is a little more discrete, but he can't stop a grin from pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"Dear Lord!" Winston gasps, taking in the scene before him.

"Winston" Lara begins with lethal calm, rubbing her temples "There's something_ very _wrong with this thing you brought home…"

"But… but there must be some explanation, I mean she wouldn't just…" the old butler chokes out, only to be promptly interrupted by Lara.

"I don't see _any_ explanation. All I see is that the bloody thing has completely destroyed what was left of my couches and now is sitting on her own massacre _and purring!_" she has a murderous gleam in her eyes as she looks up "PURRING, WINSTON! She's proud of it!"

"Well… I… Lara…"

"WHAT? Can you give me an explanation for this? Is she mental? Coz I can't find any reason for this, not a single one!" She rolls her eyes, voice dripping sarcasm "Oh no, wait! She's possessed, right? That's the excuse, isn't it?"

"Lara dear, lets just calm down and…"

"I AM PERFECTLY CALM!" Lara yells. Voice a little more controlled now "I just wish you'd tell me _what a hell_ were you thinking when you brought this little furry devil into my house! AND YOU, STOP LAUGHING, IT'S NOT FUNNY!" she snaps at Aysha who is, by this point holding her aching stomach, completely subdued by laughter.

With an exasperated exclamation, Lara storms out of the place, heading towards the front door out to the garden.

Winston rushes after her, stammering excuses.

Kurtis just waves his head with a chuckle and returns to the kitchen where he resumes reading his paper.

Aysha, however, remains on the spot, the laughing fit now gone.

She stares curiously at The Cat which, throughout the entire lecture, has been sitting on its prized loot, standing its ground, only occasionally hissing at Lara.

"Devil, is it?" Aysha muses.

* * *

After a long time of taking deep breaths and completing her assault course, Lara enters the house once again, the impulse of strangling the dear little hell kitten having somewhat subsided. 

She looks left and right, praying that no one is in her way (for their own good) and walks towards the kitchen for a glass of water.

As she approaches the door, she picks up the intriguing last remnants of conversation between Winston and Aysha, coming from inside the division. Her curiosity forces her to eavesdrop… ahem, listen for a bit longer.

"But you can't call her _that_!" The butler argues desperately.

"Why not?"

A small pause ensues. He's looking for a good argument.

"Because she's a girl! Lucifer isn't a female name!"

"Says who?" Aysha's impertinent tone "How would _you_ know? Lucifer was a fallen angel, aren't angels meant to have no defined gender?"

Another pause.

"Well, you have a point… but to name a little kitten 'Lucifer', Aysha, honestly!"

"She's not a kitten, she's a hellcat. According to Lara, at least"

Winston sighs resignedly.

"Look, you don't like it, you can always call her Lucy or something. But it's settled" Aysha concludes.

Lara grins amusedly on the other side of the door.

_Fitting name, no doubt…_

Finally deciding that she's heard enough, she pushes the door open and steps into the kitchen with a decided stride.

Winston looks up from the stove where he's cooking some kind of greenish soup.

"Good afternoon my dear" he greets, a bit unsure "…feeling calmer?"

"As one can be after having their couches shred to pieces by a psychotic cat" she replies.

Aysha sniggers from her seat, perched on top of the kitchen counter.

"You think that's funny?" Lara demands in an uninterested tone.

"Yeah. Hilarious" the girl replies. Lara glares at her for a moment.

"Sure. Downright hilarious" She opens a cupboard door casually and takes out a bottle of water "So… come up with a name yet?"

"Actually, yeah" Aysha answers, jumping down form the counter "What do you think of 'Lucifer'?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Lara picks up Winston's hopeful expression. She smirks slightly.

"Sounds good" is her reply. The butler's face breaks.

"Lara, please! You can't let her name the kitten _that_!"

"Why not? Sounds perfectly fitting to me…"

Winston throws up his hands in defeat and resumes his stirring of the soup.

Aysha chuckles and mutters a 'thanks'. As she prepares to leave the kitchen, however, Lara stops her.

"What's the rush?" she calls "Hold on a second, I'd like a word with you…"

Aysha stares at her for a moment, expression completely blank. Then she mouths a little 'oh' and nods.

Before Winston's confused glare, they both leave the kitchen through the back door, heading outside.

* * *

"Time for 'the talk' then?" Aysha asks with a smirk, taking a seat on top of one of the crates of the assault course. 

Lara simply nods, leaning against another one.

"Thought you wanted to wait for your _friend_"

"My _friend_ is busy" she replies, determined to ignore the insinuation.

"Yeah, he must be… haven't seen him since breakfast"

_Isn't that a shame._

"Whatever"

A small pause.

"So… what do you want to know?" Aysha finally asks, her tone a bit lighter than it had been in the previous night.

"First of all, I'm worried about the rest of them. The other protos" Aysha shifts uncomfortably and Lara knows right there and then that she hit a nerve "How many are there?"

"We were seven…" her eyes assume a faraway quality, voice tinged with sorrow and… is that bitterness? "The only ones who survived the breeding process… three males and four females. My unit. My siblings. My family."

"Tell me about them" Lara asks. Aysha gulps uneasily, but decides to humour her.

"There was Sam, Chris, Claire and me, the females… And then the boys: Jack, Charlie and… Ethaniel" clear sorrow in pronouncing the last name "He was the commander of the unit. The best of us"

"How did they breed you? I mean, you're what, eighteen? I know for sure that the Cabal had only gotten the Sleeper recently…"

"Seventeen. I… I don't know" Aysha admits "They never told us about that kind of stuff… We were just soldiers, meant to do the dirty work without asking any questions, clearing the path to the great work"

"Did you… do many dirty works?" Lara asks, apprehensive.

"Not me, no" embarrassment clear in her words now "I was still in the training stage, not given too many missions… But some of the older guys were already being dispatched on assignments with murder purposes. Getting rid of the Cabal's enemies, mostly…" the rest of the sentence dies in her throat and Lara promptly understands why.

"Lux Veritatis?" she completes for her. Aysha nods sadly. Lara only sighs. Then she turns to the proto, eyes burning with intensity.

"Don't _ever_ tell that to Kurtis, you hear me? _Ever_"

Aysha complies, noticing the urgency in the tomb raider's voice. Lara settles down, expression once again one of simple and pure interest.

"Then you have no idea of what's in the base of your genes?"

"I know there's Nephilim, human and animal"

"Animal?" curiosity clear in her words, supported by widened eyes.

"Yeah… The DNA structure wasn't stable so they had to add more stuff. Like genes from different animals…" Aysha sounds dismissive in explaining this.

_Either she doesn't know anything else, she doesn't think it's important or she doesn't want to talk about it._

Lara suddenly remembers something.

"Can I see your tattoo?"

Shrugging, Aysha complies.

"Just don't touch it" she warns, hopping off the block and tuning around. She parts her hair so Lara can get a better view. The tomb raider frowns as she recognizes the symbol on Karel's palm.

A sudden flashback takes her to Eckhardt's lab, the alchemist now dead on the floor. A figure stands before her, palm outstretched, offering gifts beyond mortal imagination. Offering her reasons to trust him. Familiar faces, lost ones. Fake shadows of a twisted truth in an artificial dream.

But trust is too expensive. More expensive than a pair of blue eyes. And dreams have the lifespan of sand castles, gone as soon as the tide comes.

She returns from her insight, focusing on the tattoo before her. A bright red inscription, part of the very skin.

"Do all protos have it?"

"Yeah. Since birth"

"A birthmark? Like the pure blood Nephilims?"

Aysha chuckles humourlessly.

"No. A brand. Like cattle" she turns around and returns to her seat on the vaulting block "They burn it onto our necks as soon as we're born. Kinda like farmers, to identify the herd…"

Lara is slightly taken aback by the simplicity in which the girl exposes the issue, but says nothing.

She feels it's time to ask what she really meant to. No point in stalling any longer.

"Your siblings, they…" she seems unsure of how to put it, carefully measuring the words "…do they share your philosophy towards the human population?"

"My… philosophy?"

"Are they willing to fit in just like you did? To cohabitate with the humans?"

There. She said it.

Aysha seems momentarily taken aback, but Lara doesn't think it was because of her frankness.

"I… honestly don't know…" she bows her head, staring intently at the ground.

_So that's it then._

Aysha had, obviously, been asking that same question to herself ever since she had been freed.

"I've been trying to find them… It would be better if we were together, we could work things out better… Nobody would be feeling lost and end up doing something… something…" She is by now gripping the seam of her top so tightly that her knuckles have turned white. Lara realises she has pushed her far enough. But she has to ask…

"Do you think any of your brothers represents a threat?" she leans forward, voice barely above a whisper.

Aysha shivers slightly. She lifts her head to look up at Lara, eyes gleaming with a mixture of concern and sadness. Then she speaks three words, completely inaudible had Lara not been standing so close.

"Ethaniel hates humans"

And that is more than enough for Lara. They have a problem.

* * *

I like to think about this chapter as the end of the beginning... I'm done with introductions and explanations, so things are actually going to start happening on the next chapter. 

Thanks for all the reviews and for the suggestions for the cat's name! Lucifer came up due to a little private joke of mine and my friend's... lol all I can say is that it involves that cat from Walt Disney's Cinderella and a rather peculiar name my mother had wanted to pick for me before I was born :P

It has been brought to my attention that I can't reply to reviews in the chapter, according to a new policy, but does anyone know if it's also forbidden to simply thank the reviewers? I mean, do I actually have to use the reply feature just to say 'thank you'? I'd apreciate it if someone could clear this up for me...

Again, please review if you: hate it, love it, get confused, bored, surpised with it... All critics welcome, constructive ones greatly apreciated!


	7. In the shadows

Tough one to write, this chapter... It's full of littles clues and references, so I had to measure the words carefully as not to say too much :P

It's another load of information, sorry about that. Important information, though...You'll just have to bear with me, I guess lol I said things would start happening and indeed they are happening... next two chapters will (hopefully) be more dinamic.

Oh, and many thanks for the reviews :)

enough rambling, on with the chapter:

* * *

A darkened world stretches before her, its voracious tentacles by now fully engulfing her in cold unbearable darkness. She has had enough time at this point to understand what they mean when they say that 'the darkness is but the absence of light'… Her darkness is the absence of everything. She has comprehended that after those fifteen years… or was it sixteen? She isn't counting. Her darkness is, after all, also an absence of time. 

A universe frozen in time and space where all senses merge and fuse into black nothingness.

It had scared her at first, the absence of everything… Suddenly finding herself chained in a timeless cage where she hadn't been able to see, hear or feel a thing… the cold press of the silver chains on her wrists being the only reminder that she was still somewhere in the physical world. But even that had faded with time. A forgettable detail after you spend fifteen (possibly sixteen or more) years in a limbo devoid of any life.

It had scared her so… the silence, the darkness… But one gets used to it.

_What doesn't kill you makes you stronger… or insane._

She laughs to no one in particular, amused by her own sarcasm. The sound echoes all throughout the hollow place, reverberating on the imaginary walls. She knows there must be walls. What is, after all, a prison without walls?

No. She knows she is surrounded by physical limits of some kind… but are they walls? She honestly doesn't care. The silver chains are enough to bind her, she won't have to worry about any other restrains…

She'll never leave this place.

The ones who locked her in here made sure of it.

Fifteen years… fifteen long years since her usefulness had ended. What a foolish girl she had been back then… she had believed it all. It had sounded like such a genius plan… the ultimate Nephilim, the perfect killing machine. Bred thanks to the knowledge of the noble arts of alchemy genetics. Who ever said that humans hadn't invented anything worthy?

A perfect plan, a perfect specimen… and all she had to do was carry it in her womb.

_Blood of the enemy, seed of the angel… and egg of the mortal. _

All pieced together and inserted in the womb of the demonic mother thanks to the wonders of modern medicine.

All she had to do was carry it for nine months, nine meaningless months… then give birth to it, watch it grow, be trained and then behold the wonders of perfection.

Soon, the pathetic little beings that populated the earth would be drowning in an endless pool of their own entrails. Such a perfect plan…

_Such a bad choice…_

A bad egg it had been. A mortal's egg. Too much humanity in the newborn child, too much weakness… Too weak to fight, to even desire to fight… too human. A failure.

It was her child, nevertheless; _hers… _

She had carried it in her womb… nine months…

Things had started to go wrong when she had begun to get 'maternal', as her brother often put. Her mistake: opposing the fact that her offspring was to be raised as a war machine, trained like a hunting hound and treated like cattle. Surely blood of her blood deserved more?

She couldn't have that. It was _her_ child. And her capital error had been thinking that that fact made any difference… not to her brother it didn't.

He wouldn't have no teenage mother tell him what to do, especially when she carried the perfect killer machine inside her… As soon as it was born, her child was taken from her, never to be seen again.

Of course she opposed. Of course she put up a fight, of course she did her best to recover the baby… but her best hadn't been good enough. Her brother was so much older, so much stronger…

Soon after, she had, herself, been taken to what would become her eternal prison. Her personal hell of darkness, bound with silver chains and blood of her ancestors.

Of her child, she had heard nothing more.

The prisoner sighs.

_Fifteen years… too long… too damn long to spend alone and remain sane. _

But she hadn't always been alone. In the beginning, they used to come once in a while to feed her. Her brother and that waste of a mortal on skinny legs. He was her brother's second hand man, she gathered. Along with the alchemist guy, of course, but that one was just a puppet…

For a long time she had entertained the thought of gutting the pitiful creature and feeding on his innards, but that would take too long and it would stain her beautiful prison with filthy human blood… She had settled, then, for a classy souvenir to his left eye, a reminder that you should chain scratching Nephilims tighter.

She had never seen the human ever since that day, or his deformed remnants of a face. And for that she had been grateful.

Her brother had visited for a while longer but then he too had disappeared. She isn't fed anymore, no need for that. Food is but a commodity to pure blood Nephilims, not a necessity.

Fifteen years have passed. She sees no more, she hears no more, feels no more.

Not until today.

She feels it now, the humming energy, the intoxicating restlessness seeping through the 'walls' of her void of a cage.

Something is happening. She knows it. She can feel… one of the kids is up there with her brother… but it is not hers. It is one of his beloved protos. She loses interest and returns to her restless slumber.

Let them worry about their mundane affairs. She shall sleep.

* * *

"Come on in, private" 

Captain Connors shivers when hearing the cold hiss from inside the room, but still opens the door for the private to enter.

The younger man walks in arrogantly, crossing the threshold of the doorway in a purposeful stride.

Wondering if the boy is extremely brave, too proud for his own good or just completely demented, Connors also enters the room, closing the heavy metal door behind him.

It slides into place, hinges screeching in protest, and then a loud 'slam' announces that they are alone inside. Alone with _it_.

The room is poorly decorated with cracked stones from floor to ceiling, a couple of bookcases and a cheap bed in a corner. A wooden desk stands to the left, scattered papers on it illuminated only by the dim light of a candle. A candle which light wavers constantly, as if blown by an inexistent wind.

Captain Connors finds no explanation whatsoever for this, as he finds no explanation for why the room is bathed in bright light when the only source seems to be the remnants of that candle.

He wastes no time on this, however, for he knows that the 'explanation' probably lies in the centre of the room.

It is there that _it_ sits.

Slumped in a luxurious armchair (the only piece of decent furniture in the chamber), fully enveloped by a dark cloak, _it _sits calmly. No sound emitted but the deep shallow rasping of its breath.

Captain Connors approaches cautiously. Not too close, as if it would somehow upset the creature. He bows deeply, averting his eyes to the ground.

"Sir, here's private #1, sir. As ordered" he barks.

The private, however, settles for a brief nod, a simple acknowledgment of the creature's presence.

The Captain is now sure that the kid is insane.

"Thank you, Captain" _it_ hisses.

Taking the cue as quickly as humanly possible, Connors bows again and rushes out of the room, closing the squeaky door behind him.

He sighs in relief as the heavy portal slams shut.

His visits to the creature's lair are extremely rare, but he still dreads every single one. He is perfectly aware of what one of those creatures is capable of, even if diseased… and he surely doesn't want to end up like good old Rouzic, oh no…

_The mouse should be cautious when approaching the lion, even if he's chained… _

_

* * *

_

"Long time no see, private"

"Lucky me. And I have a name…"

"Ah, yes…"

"…which is for my friends. You may call by that most ingenious code name you picked for me… Shadow, is it not?" An arrogant grin, a flick of sandy hair and the young man stares provocatively at the creature.

"Indeed, Shadow…" he sounds amused, perhaps even slightly entertained "… a fitting name for the little assignment I would like to request of you"

"Lets hear it, then. My time's precious and, if you don't mind, I have better things to do than to stand in this stuffy closet with the leftovers of your decrepit body"

"You know I could just fry you on the spot for your insolence, my dear boy?" refrained laughter in his tone now.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but wouldn't that kill you?"

A cracked chuckle irrupts from the depths of the cloak, quickly killed in order to avoid a coughing fit.

"Indeed… decrepit I am, rotten to the bone. Many would surely call my survival 'divine intervention' but both you and I know how preposterous that sounds"

Shadow laughs softly, waving his head.

"Preposterous… as if the idiot up there would want anything to do with us. So, it not being a miracle, I guess we could say that satan finds my career quite promising, no?"

"Satan is a fickle friend" Shadow replies, his grey eyes sparkling with disdain "You know how fast he'll abandon you should your… _career_ collapse"

"But of course. And that it is why it must not collapse. It is why I need your help"

"Finally, we're getting there!" he gestures impatiently, rolling his eyes "Count on old men to ramble like hell… What is it that you want from me then?"

"Calm down, my boy! Why in such a hurry? You didn't even give me the chance to welcome you _home_…"

"I am _not_ your boy" Shadow interrupts, all traces of amusement gone from his tone "And the only reason why I came back home is because you said you'd help me find them"

"I thought you wanted to see the pathetic humans exterminated as much as I do?"

"I don't need your help for that"

"Such confidence! _Talis arrogantia_"

"Not presumption, realism"

"If you think so… But mind your ego, boy. _Superos fuga, superos cado_"

"_Supera dictata_"

"Also very true…"

Shadow fidgets impatiently.

"Why don't you let me worry about my ego and just worry about filling me in concerning that little 'assignment' of yours?"

"Ah yes, the assignment… As I've said, I need you to be a shadow. Someone's shadow"

"Go on"

The creature shifts uncomfortably and speaks in a bitter tone, as if angered by the subject.

"I need you to track down a mortal. Follow her around, scout the terrain ahead… I need to know what she knows"

"Concerning?"

"Us" he replies bluntly "The great work, everything…"

"Is she… an issue?"

"Not for long"

"Should I take care of her?"

"No. Not yet. For now I just need you to be her shadow"

"Sounds easy enough…"

"Do not take her lightly, my boy, that was my mistake as well and it almost proved fatal" his voice sounds crisp, his tone sour "For the mortal that she is, this woman deserves credit"

"How so?" Shadow sounds mildly interested now. It is not everyday, after all, that you hear the creature compliment a human…

"She is… resourceful. Very resourceful. And she might be accompanied by yet another loose end. A male"

"Is he also… resourceful?"

"And powerful. Guardian scum…"

A smirk plays on Shadow's disdainful mouth.

"Lux?" he guesses.

"Indeed… just a human, but do not let your guard down"

He chuckles.

"I think I just might enjoy this" he says to no one in particular.

"That's up to you. Just make sure you don't kill them both before you return to me with info"

"Make no promises…"

The creature leans forward, a bony finger sticking out from under the cloak, pointing at Shadow.

"You better follow my orders, boy" he hisses "I will not have anymore of your arrogant attitude! Remember what happened to that brother of yours? Jason, was it not? Very messy business…"

Shadow has significant trouble in biting back a growl.

"Of course I did not approve of such extreme measures…" the creature leans back, pleased with himself "…but the ends justifies the means. Insubordinate soldiers can become a menace"

"Even when they're eleven-year-olds?" his voice is but a menacing whisper.

"Bad eggs must be ruled out early. Sure taught the rest of you to keep your tails down…"

"Careful with the tails. They might rise when you least expect. Isn't it how it works with the wolves? The younger ones finishing off the old ones and taking over the pack?" he smiles now. A devilish smile in an immaculate face. A wolf in a sheep's cloth.

"You need me" the creature concludes with a tinge of humour.

"And _you_ need _me_"

"Should we be friends?"

"Please. As long as you keep your part of the deal…"

"I will. Your siblings will be back home soon. And then we shall regroup and complete what was left unfinished… you will be treated with more respect this time. Now I'm in charge, not some idiotic human…"

"Quit complaining. You trusted the human"

"Seemed promising at first…"

"Looks can be deceiving" he pauses as if collecting a thought "He never knew of us, did he?"

"No, of course not. Not even Boaz. Only me and Rouzic knew"

Shadow twists his nose.

"I don't like that one. Call it intuition, but there's something about that guy…"

"Don't worry so much. You're here to kill, not to think"

"Would help if I did both, nah?"

"Surely, but as you seem unable…"

"Let us hope I don't end up proving you wrong"

The creature doesn't reply, but Shadow knows for sure that there is a smile on his mouth… on what's left of his mouth.

"You will probably find the woman in England" he goes on "She owns a residence in Surrey, it appears. Check with Gunderson for details"

Shadow frowns.

"Am I gonna have to let the big bull tag along?"

"Of course not… they're all yours. My gift to you, boy. Welcome back to where you belong"

"I belong in hell, and so do you. If it wasn't for our resilience in not going to where we belong, this entire mess wouldn't be happening in the first place…"

"Blame the careless watchers and the reckless humans. If our crime was being born, then theirs was judging us"

"Very deep today, aren't we?"

"Indeed. Here I am, sharing my wisdom with some insolent kid… Get out of my room, I must rest"

"No rest for the wicked"

"Still. Go, I'll be waiting for news. Thread carefully"

"You know me"

"Yes, I do. Which is why I give you this advice. Go now"

"Yes, Master" Shadow drawls, producing a mock bow.

He leaves the chamber, the squeak of the door almost fully drowning the coughing fit that erupts inside. Almost.

* * *

Confused? Don't worry, you're supposed to be. All this stuff will make sense later on. 

hehe silly me, I forgot to write the translations for the latin stuff:

_Talis arrogantia_- such presumption

_Superos fuga, superos cado-_ the higher the flight, the higher the fall

_Supera dictata_- the bigger the lesson

Hope the translations are accurate, I totally suck at Latin and those online translators don't allways help...

Reviews are allways welcome, as well as guesses!

I'll give a cookie to who can tell me who Shadow is... :P

Merry Christmas and a happy new year! See you in January!


	8. The Calling

"…**well, but you're sure you're okay?"**

"**Never better. Though it still intrigues me why the hell did they kept it in… oh shit! Marianne! Didn't I tell you to get that kid to bed?"**

**The little boy runs up the stairs and dives under the covers in his bed. He just overheard one of daddy's conversations. He didn't understand anything, but daddy is going to be very mad…**

* * *

The incessant 'bip' of the bedside table clock forcefully tears Kurtis away from a troubled sleep, putting a sudden end to some shredded dream that kept replaying in his head over and over again.

He grunts in annoyance, arm shooting out from under the covers and feeling around for the cursed device. He finally reaches it, knocking down the lamp and a packet of cigarettes in the process, and slaps the 'snooze' button.

Big difference.

The irritating machine rattles noisily against the bedside table, finally earning a hard shove.

It falls a good six feet away, being immediately silenced by the crash.

Kurtis burrows deeper under the covers in a last effort to go back to sleep. After a couple of minutes of failed attempts, he finally sits up with a resigned sigh.

Hand parting the bangs that hang loosely over his eyes, his brow furrows in concentration. His mind feels hazy and cramped, trying hard to reach out to tangled strings of thought.

It's no use. He can't remember.

Shrugging the dream off, he gets up and heads to the bathroom, a last uninterested thought to how he will have to pay Lara for the digital clock.

* * *

A very sleepy Kurtis makes it to the kitchen, mumbling a half-hearted 'good-morning' to its occupants.

He heads straight to the fridge for milk, paying no attention whatsoever to Lara and Winston's argument about something to do with 'bread' or to Aysha, slumped in a chair with an absent expression.

He extracts a bowl and a spoon from the cupboard and sits down with his breakfast.

Still unconsciously thinking about the dream, it takes him a couple of seconds to decode that the cereal is resting across the table, in front of Aysha.

"Kid?" he grunts.

No reply. She plays with the cereal in her own bowl.

"Kid?" a little louder now. She looks at him as if he has just woken her up from some deep reverie, surprise soon replaced by annoyance.

"What?" she mumbles back.

"Cereal"

"Huh?"

"Cereal!"

"Sorry, can't hear you…"

"Pass the goddamn Cereal!" He snaps, a little more than annoyed. He receives a pointed stare.

"I think something's missing from that _request_…"

He looks up, pretending to be thinking.

"Like… 'pass the goddamn cereal you stupid nephilim before I go get it myself and smack you on the way back'?" he whispers, making sure Winston can't hear them.

"Now, that wasn't very polite of you… _priest_" is the venomous reply, also in a hushed tone.

"Priest?"

"Yeah. The Lux was made of warrior monks, wasn't it?"

"Well, yeah, ages ago…"

"So there. Priest" she shrugs and returns to her breakfast, not sparing him a glance.

He says something inaudible under his breath and leans over the table, trying to gasp the pack of cereal. Aysha, however, acts quicker and grabs the pack, placing it beyond his reach and grinning smugly.

"Gimme that" he growls.

"Say please"

"Gimme that _now_"

"You have to say plea- hey!" she halts mid-sentence as she feels a pull on the pack, as if an invisible hand was trying to get a hold of the cereal. She quickly grabs it with both hands and glares daggers at Kurtis, who is now sporting a grin of his own "Oh no you don't!"

"Hand it over" he insists, pulling again with his mind. This time Aysha looses her grip on the pack, but soon halts its trajectory across the table with her own mind.

"Will you look at that, she has tricks of her own… oh wait, that's right… you're a proto!" Kurtis drawls.

"Wass the matter priest?" Aysha hisses, giving the pack a hard pull "Having trouble keeping up with the nephilim?"

"You wish" he retorts, in between pulls "I'm actually-having-fun- now give—"

Whatever he was about to say dies in his throat as the pack, being drawn by two opposite forces, suddenly bursts open, cardboard being thorn and cereal scattering all over the place.

Kurtis and Aysha just stare at each other while Lara and Winston go silent and turn to look at them.

"But what…?" the old butler asks, dumbfounded.

Lara just glares at them.

"What just happened here?" Winston insists as he picks up a broom and hurries to clean the mess.

"Wonderful question" Lara whispers, leaning closer to them.

"She wouldn't give me the cereal" Kurtis replies, still looking at the proto.

"He didn't say 'please'" Aysha retorts, refusing to show how stupid she feels.

Lara looks from Kurtis to Aysha, not believing her ears.

"_How_ _old_ are you people?" she hisses, glaring at her former partner.

"Hey, don't look at me!" he replies, feeling ridiculous before even saying it "She started…"

"Oh P-lease! Grow up, the two of you!" Lara snaps, gesturing

with exasperation.

"Hum… it's clean" Winston informs, appearing behind Lara. She turns around, somewhat startled, and forces a smile.

"Great, Winston, thanks! Now… uh… breakfast! That's right, breakfast!" She stammers, rushing to grab a piece of bread and a knife.

"But Lara, dear, I told you I can do…" the butler starts, making to take the knife from her. She pulls it away.

"Oh, come on Winston! I'm a big girl now, alright? I can cut a slice of bread!" and she does so, illustrating the argument. Winston sighs and throws his hands up in defeat, going to wash the dishes on the sink. He removes Aysha's empty bowl from in front of her face, glaring curiously at her and Kurtis, who are casting murderous glances at each other.

"So… everyone sleep alright?" Lara asks as she slices the bread, trying to start a conversation.

Kurtis throws a surprised glance her way.

_More talkative now, are we?_

"Sorta" he replies.

"Uhu" mumbles a once again absent Aysha.

"Sorta?" Lara returns in an uninterested tone.

"Yeah, I kinda kept waking up and stuff… And by the way, the bedside table clock may have suffered a little _accident_"

Lara turns her head to look at him.

"An 'accident'?"

He smiles, almost sheepishly.

"It wouldn't shut up…"

"Ever heard of something called 'the _off_ button'? OW!" she suddenly yelps. As she was talking to him, she wasn't paying attention to what she was doing, the knife cutting automatically through the bread and eventually making its way to her finger.

She sucks on it, mumbling curses.

Winston rushes to her side, face boiling with concern.

"Oh, Lara!" he scolds "I told you this would happen…"

"Oh come on, it's just a little cut!" she retorts.

"Well that's what you get for messing with sharp things without paying attention…"

Kurtis suddenly freezes, spoon full of milk poised in midair, mouth hanging open. He closes it slowly.

For some reason, his mind goes back to the tangled dream from last night.

_Sharp things…_

Something in that line seems to have made a connection in his brain.

_Sharp things…_

'…_that's what they get for playing with sharp things…'_

He blinks a couple of times.

_Where the hell did that come from?_

He digs deeper in his memory, trying to follow some kind of link, but is suddenly interrupted by Lara.

"Kurtis? Kurtis, are you there?"

"Huh?" He turns to face her, noticing the napkin she is using to staunch the minor bleeding.

"I said I wanted to talk to you"

Kurtis stares at her, almost unbelieving.

_She_ wants to talk to him?

Over the past few days she has been doing everything she can to avoid just that.

_Five days…_

It seems that some silent agreement has been established between the two of them, an agreement to forget that night in the library has ever happened. To pretend no words were ever spoken, no confessions ever made… But like most things involving women, it's better said than done.

He had thought it best to avoid the subject, but it seems that every single time he sights her, their late night conversation will come back to his mind…

His solution? Avoid sighting her. She seemed to agree, as they both have been doing just that for five days.

But he knew they wouldn't be able to go on like that forever. They have problems to solve, unfinished issues to discuss.

And he sure as hell wants to know how Croft managed to completely level Eckhardt's lab, not to mention getting his Chirugai back.

And now she wants to talk.

_Alright then…_

"Sure… okay" he shrugs, putting down the spoon and standing up. Lara gestures for him to follow her and they both leave the kitchen under a curious look from Winston and an apparently blank one from Aysha.

* * *

"So… what do you make of our proto there?"

"Huh? Oh…" Kurtis stammers, his mind everywhere but in Lara's words. He feels it now… a feeble pull… "She's an annoying brat. And I still think she's gonna stab us in our sleep" He forgets about the pull as they move along the hallway on the second floor. For a panicked moment, he thinks she's leading them to the library again. He's gained a personal dread to that division. But, to his relief, she stops in the music room, gesturing for him to take a seat on the nearby couch.

He does so, a strange feeling still washing over him. Lara sits opposite him, on an armchair, and looks past him for a few seconds.

Then she manages a half-hearted smile.

"Well… she's already had a fair amount of chances to do that, don't you think?" she asks. At Kurtis' blank stare, she adds "The kid. To stab us in our sleep."

He shrugs.

"Maybe she's planning something bigger…"

"Like?"

"Hell if I know. I still don't think we should trust her, that's all"

Lara shifts slightly in her seat and pauses for a moment.

"I don't think Aysha is our concern" she finally states.

"What do you mean 'not our concern'?" Kurtis retorts, confused "Then whose concern is it? There's no more Lux, remember?"

"Yeah, I know. I mean… she's not our major concern right now"

"Care to elaborate?"

"The others. Her siblings"

Kurtis leans forward at this point, his face unreadable but his eyes gleaming with interest.

"You remember she said there were seven protos, right?"

"Yes…"

"Well, I have reasons to believe that at least one of them is going to represent a major headache to us"

"A black sheep?"

"According to Aysha, yes. And, fittingly enough, a powerful one"

* * *

The cold winter wind blows away the fallen leaves outside, somewhat clearing the gravel path that leads to a tall iron gate.

Shadow stops in his tracks, contemplating the massive brick construction behind it.

A grin tugs at his lips as he analyses what lies beyond those walls.

Five beings.

_Three humans… an animal…_

He twists his nose. He seems unable to identify the fifth being, which troubles him somewhat.

But he isn't one to dwell on minor concerns, so he shrugs the thought off and moves to crouch behind a nearby bush that provides him both the perfect coverage and a clear view of the mansion.

Settled, he waits.

_At nightfall. _

When shadows roam.

* * *

"One of her siblings, Ethan something, seems to have developed a slight 'distaste' for our kind" Lara continues, casting an uninterested glance at the wind ruffled trees outside.

"Isn't that marvellous?" Kurtis is, once again, having trouble in focusing on the conversation. The pull is at it again. Somewhere under him… It tugs feebly, but stronger each time "Does she know where he is?"

"That's the problem. She's lost track of all of them"

"Does it even bother her?" Kurtis struggles to follow a line of thought. The pull is getting a little more than distracting now.

* * *

"Is something bothering you, dear?"

"Huh?" Aysha looks at the butler, putting down the plate she was cleaning "No… nothing, everything's fine" she assures him.

"You seem kind of absent lately" Winston insists, unconvinced.

"Oh… I huh… I'm thinkin' about… stuff"

"Stuff, is it?"

"Yeah, stuff…" Aysha casts a furtive glance at the main hall. Something is messing around with her senses… something, somewhere on the ground floor, is emitting some kind of calling. Trying to establish a link with another something… upstairs?

"Might I ask a somewhat personal question?" Winston's voice sounds again, bringing Aysha back from her insight.

"Sure, why not?" she smiles at the older man, finishing cleaning another plate.

"You and your brother… you don't get along very well, do you?"

Aysha blinks a couple of times.

_Me and my… oh!_

She looks away, suddenly very interested in a spot on her plate.

"Well, you could say we have a 'peculiar' relationship…"

"Peculiar?"

"Humhum… listen… I need to use the uh… toilet!" Aysha replies, stumbling over her own words "I'll be right back" she promises.

"Of course, dear"

She rushes out of the kitchen, completely overwhelmed by curiosity towards the 'calling something'.

Slightly disappointed by her not too creative 'toilet excuse', she closes her eyes and focuses. Looking for the source of the calling… that enticing humming of mystical energy…

_Right… there!_

She opens her eyes and turns in the direction of the calling, azure orbs widening in confusion when they meet a wall. A long, plain extension of white wall, covering the hallway that leads from the main hall into the gym. A lonely panel dots the creamy surface, standing out with its wooden presence.

A rectangular piece of wood in the middle of a wall.

_That would make it a door, smartass._

This door however, has no handle of any kind and a half-hearted push reveals exactly what she expected: locked.

She leans against it with a furrowed brow, refusing to admit defeat. Ear glued to the wood, she listens carefully for any signs of… well, anything. Something that is 'calling', preferably.

And there it is… she is sure now… It's inside.

Aysha steps back, staring at the closed portal.

_How to open it?_

She paces back and forth, looking around for something that may prove helpful.

Nothing. Just the usual length of chess-patterned mosaic, stretching through the entire length of the hall to her right and the by now very familiar gym to her left.

_There's gotta be something, somewhere that will open this…_

Defeated and disappointed, she returns to Winston and his dishes.

"Long time in the _toilet_" The butler comments.

But Aysha's attention is so focused on how to open the stupid door that she misses the sarcasm in his words.

"Yeah…" she replies. And then she lets it slip, perhaps out of frustration or just lack of attention, she mumbles "Nice decoration out in the hall. Very pretty"

Winston slowly puts down a dish as a crooked smile tugs at his wrinkled face.

"Yes, very pretty… Victorian, I hear. But you should see the garden outside. That is _truly interesting_"

Aysha looks up at the older man, noticing the hint of good natured mischief in his voice. Her face lights up has she receives a wink in return, and she quickly puts down her still soaking plate.

"I didn't get a chance to get a good look at it when I arrived" She chants merrily, biting back the details of that particular night "But it seems huge!"

"Oh, you have no idea… Miss Croft even had a natural maze planted, fancy that!" Winston croaks fondly, but not dropping his meaningful tone "It took many years to grow, but now I rejoice in stating that its bushes rise a good three meters above the ground!"

He prepares to go on about the grandeur of said maze, but Aysha has already rushed out of the kitchen, a slight skip in her pace.

* * *

_Impatient youth…_

Winston watches her go with an amused and slightly guilty expression.

_If Lara asks, I didn't tell her…_

Of course he didn't. He, in his innocence, noticed that the girl took interest in architecture and directed her to the natural extension of the manor: the garden. And, of course, he couldn't avoid mentioning one of its most sublime beauties, could he?

It didn't even cross his mind that there is another very interesting detail in the heart of said beauty, oh no…

Winston laughs to himself, very much aware of the storm that will soon ensue when that girl finds – and she will find it – the way to the trophy room.

Until then, he'll keep to his dishes.


	9. The Gardener's Revenge

**NOTE: PLEASE SAVE YOURSELF A HEADACHE OF CONFUSION AND READ THIS - This chapter has been re-written. For those of you who have no idea of what happened, allow me to brief you: the previous version of the chapter came out too similar to chapter 7 of AKKON's Folly, who wrote it long before I did. We talked this matter out and settled on the point that I would put a note at the beginning of the chapter stating exactly this. That note has been there for almost a month, but I thought it was best to also re-write the whole thing. It was also AKKON's idea that I use the treasure room in TR2 (many thanks ;), so that the chapters could properly differ. And yeah, I've made some minor alterations to the original room, namely adding a light switch (I'll have a fit if someone tells me there was actually one there and I didn't find it. GAH I ran out of flares so many times) and a subsection with display cases because it just didn't seem right that important artifacts like theDagger of Xian and the Iris rested in a huge heap of random treasures.**

**WHAT HAS CHANGED: Well, this entire chapter, to start. And all the stuff that implies, aka: parts of chapter 2, 8 and 10.**

**WHAT MUST BE RE-READ: I'd advice re-reading all the chapters mentioned, but you can skip chapter 2 and 8 as the only things that have changed are the characters actions and dialogues when referring to the treasure room, since it hasswitched places. DO RE-READ this chapter and chapter 10, this re-write actually gave birth a to atiny huge detail. Details do matter, please don't ignore the changes that have been made or later in the story you'll probably be left with that nasty "wtf?" feeling.**

**I love you to bits for actually reading this, thank you :)**

* * *

"Yes, I definitely think it bothers her" Lara replies, dismissing that part of the conversation with a pointed look. 

Kurtis shifts uncomfortably in his seat. He feels awkward for some reason and then there's that annoying pull…

"Lets cross that bridge when we get to it, ok?" he speaks without thinking, more out of need to rush the conversation.

"You mean… just stay here and wait for things to start happening? With Nephilims on the loose and the Cabal still active?" Lara retorts, confused.

He shifts again, showing clear signs of impatience. It's pulling so hard… Calling out… to him. To him! How could he have been so stupid?

"Lara" he speaks suddenly, a little harshly due to the impatience, but hurries to soften his tone "Where is my Chirugai?"

Taken aback by the question, Lara looks stunned for a moment, but quickly composes herself, perfectly blank expression set in place.

"Your what?" she inquires, even though she is perfectly capable of deducing what he is talking about.

"My Chirugai, my weapon, my frisbee thing!" She takes too long to reply. Way too long, and that pull is driving him insane… He jumps up from his seat "Where, Lara? I know you picked it up at the Strahov!"

Her eyes narrow slightly. His voice is _a notch_ too loud for her liking.

"I picked it up alright. It was lying there. _In a pool of human blood_"

_Of course._

He'd be surprised if she didn't steer the conversation that way.

He takes a deep breath.

"I _need_ my Chirugai, Lara. Where did you put it?"

"It's safe"

"It's safe…" pacing the room with deep breaths "Where?" he insists, in between gritted teeth.

"I wonder what it was doing there…" she comments, coolly standing up and wandering about the room with a thoughtful look "…just lying there, blood all around… no body to go with it…"

"LARA, WHERE?"

"You know what? You talk too loud. Way too loud" Lara informs in an ice dripping tone.

Kurtis takes another deep breath.

"I-just-want-my-Chirugai"

"Sure you do" she finally stands up, losing her temper "You want everything! You want a partner to do your dirty work for you, you want her to sod off when you don't need her anymore, then you want to crash at her place and want her to smile and not ask any questions! And, of course, you want your Frisbee! That's all you came back for, isn't it? "

"Was I meant to come back for anything else?"

A small pause. A second too long. Then he bursts again.

"ARE YOU GOING TO GIVE IT BACK OR NOT?"

"GIVE IT BACK? You show up here, break into my house, act like you own the place, bring a goddamn nephilim on your tail and refuse to give any kind of explanations, AND YOU STILL MAKE DEMANDS?"

"That's a 'no', then?"

"YES! You go find it and then get your ass out of here"

"Fine! Gladly!"

"FINE!"

And with that he storms out of the room.

An angry shout makes its way into the room as he walks away through the corridor.

"And stop calling yourself 'my partner', you were a goddamn bump in the road that'll I'll be more than happy to forget!"

* * *

The sun is by now rapidly setting in the sky and Aysha's eyes are slowly starting to get used to the spreading twilight. Said eyes are also to receiving a permanent imprint of the dark green pattern of the foliage, as she drags her bored being through the maze's interior, getting a glimpse of the eastern wall for what seems like the fiftieth time. 

In the beginning, she could even say that she was having a blast, extremely excited about defeating Croft's maze and uncovering what was in the centre… Because there _had_ to be something in the centre, right? Why else would someone go through the trouble of reserving a patch of their garden to grow gigantic bushes?

Now, after a good half an hour of looking, she is actually beginning to think that the true purpose of the whole things is to lure people inside with the promise of some pot of gold or whatever in the middle, drive them insane and watch them perish in its innards.

She wouldn't put it past Croft to have a nice little arena in the centre, littered with rotten bodies, perhaps even a bull man to go with it… And the butler, of course, is her accomplice, telling unsuspecting gullible visitors about the wonders of the three foot tall maze… Years to grow, he yapped… OH SHIT!

Her first thoughts are for the acute pain in her backside which so unceremoniously landed on what feels like hard rock. Then her senses take notice of the darkness around her. After two seconds and a half of unspeakable curses, her brain clicks: hole. In her half-asleep pacing through the maze, she fell into a hole.

More cursing as she pulls herself up on her feet, forcing her pupils to widen like a cat's and scrutinize the length of the tunnel before her.

_About fucking time!_

She presses on through the damp darkness, marking a left turn at the end and picking up her pace as she spots a patch of light ahead.

Through the rabbit hole.

_Your wonderland better be worth it, Croft…_

As her head pops up to ground level again, a broad grin widens on her lips. Before her, two huge statues rise towards the skies (never surpassing the height of the maze's bushes, conveniently. Wouldn't want to give the lost visitors any clues, oh noooo), standing side by side on top of a heightened stone platform which gives the scene the feel of an altar.

And hell, is she willing to pay religious homage to switch that stands innocently in the wall between them… She settles for a friendly punch, instead.

The feeling of accomplishment slowly leaves her as her grin falls to pieces. Now all she has to do is pray very hard that the wooden door has opened… and find her way back through a trap worthy of Dedalus himself.

_Aww for fuck's sake!

* * *

_

The returning journey is surprisingly quick compared to the previous one and Aysha throws a last smug glance back at the evil maze. Alright, so maybe she wrecked a few bushes on the way, created a few shortcuts… But she doubts a three meters tall maze will have trouble in regenerating, anyway.

Grinning like the Cheshire cat, she makes her way back into the mansion. Her eyes gleam with delight as she sets foot on the main hall and gets a view of the open door. In less than ten seconds, she's gone through it and stands in a dimly lit tunnel that strongly resembles the one she felt into just a few minutes ago.

She cautiously takes a step forward, minding the steps as she proceeds. She hasn't walked five feet inside when the 'thud' of the closing door makes her jump around in surprise.

She blinks a couple of times. Never did it cross her mind that the stupid thing could be timed but, boy, is she glad she made those shortcuts in the maze…

Shrugging the matter aside, she walks on down the stone steps.

Cat eyes can do a good job in dim light, but they aren't of much use in the pitch-black darkness. She reaches the end of the descent and proceeds to feel her way around the walls, praying and hoping that Croft isn't deranged enough to have a bloody dungeon in the bowels of her house with no kind of light source at all.

A few minutes of tapping the walls reveal a God-sent switch that she promptly flicks on.

Blinding white light fills the room and Aysha shields her burning eyes at once eyes. As her vision begins to adapt to clarity, her jaw drops in disbelief and comptemplation.

_Oh. My. God._

* * *

Kurtis hurries down the staircase, dragging his feet all the way. He curses every inch of his idiotic self for not having shot Croft in the Louvre, or straight away when he first set eyes on her at Café Métro. If anything, he should have realized she was nothing but trouble when she turned off the power and set loose Boaz's puppy on that damned Sanitarium… 

But noooo! A pretty face adorned by full, pouty lips, a nice figure, a sharp tongue and a nice pair of… eyes… and there goes Kurtis, head over heels, dying to please the lady.

**_Don't be so hard on yourself, my boy. You were paying just a little too much attention to her attributes…_**

_You AGAIN?_

A desperate grunt makes its way out of his lips. Just when you think things can't get any worse…

_**As long as there's stupidity among the mortals, I'll be here.**_

_And who exactly are you?_

_**The voice of your insanity, boy. Your rapidly growing insanity…**_

_Can't argue with that… Now go away!_

_**Now now, silly, you know the procedure. I make you see the light and THEN I go away.**_

_FUCK OFF! The light is far away from this bloody house, that's all I need to know. I'll get my Chirugai and then I'll go happily looking for it…_

_**You won't find it.**_

_Oh? And why is that?_

_**Because you're an idiot.**_

_Hey, I'm not a…_

_**Oh sure, I'm the one talking to myself in front of a wall!**_

Like a literal slap on the face, reality dawns on Kurtis once again, in the form of a wooden wall with which he collides head first.

Too irrationally pissed to even rejoice over the disappearance of the voice, he curses loudly and forcefully kicks the offending wall. It sounds kind of hollow, even for something made of wood…

* * *

Past all thoughts of 'shiny' and 'this be pretty', Aysha leisurely strolls around the treasure room, ogling at the several chests that litter the place, afraid of even glancing at the blinding length of gold and artefacts that surround the section she is standing in. 

She feels extremely tempted to open the chests and take a peek at what's inside, but her senses are suddenly distracted by something else. The pull is infinitely stronger in here, assuring her that the calling object is merely feet away.

Forgetting all about the shiny things, she presses onwards through the underground treasure room, ending up in a smaller square room. Unlike this previous division, where treasures litter the floor in random heaps, this one seems to have received a special attention: the floor is covered by a thick crimson carpet, a lit fireplace adorns the opposite wall which sports a few notorious paintings and, instead of gas lamps, chandeliers hand from the ceiling.

In the middle of the room, a few display cases rise in solemn guard of the artefacts they hold, all suspended in some kind of gravitational void.

Aysha takes notice of a new switch close to the entrance of this room, which, after pressed, plunges the previous one into darkness. With a shrug, she walks amid the display cases, marveling at the curious objects, all spinning around themselves in a slow and purposeless orbit. There is a dagger-like object, adorned by intricate decorations that look oriental in nature, a floating bubble of half spheres that turn around themselves endlessly, which for some reason gives Aysha a light feeling of nausea, and many other curious tokens.

But what truly draws her attention is a particular display case in the far corner of the room, the housing of a metallic disc-shaped object.

It doesn't take very long of admiring the dormant trinket for Aysha to realize she has found her target.

Her calling thing.

* * *

What started off as a curious knocking has now tuned into a kicking fest of the wooden door. Yes, because Kurtis is by now sure it is a door. 

More than that, he is _certain _that the calling is coming from the other side of it.

Quite simply: his Chirugai is inside and the door is in the way. Things that are in the way are evil. They should be destroyed.

* * *

The glass display case reflects the pair of wide blue eyes, staring curiously at the sleeping disc inside. 

_The calling thing._

It doesn't seem like much… hardly worth all the hell she had to endure to make her way into that room. But then again, none of the other objects, each in its own code-protected display case, look like more than lame souvenirs, something a tourist would pick up in an Arab flee market to put on a shelf and show off to his neighbours…

Aysha wanders, however, how Croft managed to keep the objects suspended like that, swimming in space like all gravity has been withdrawn from the cases. The entire room exhales a feel of timelessness, as if it doesn't quite belong in this world, the closed red panel like a sealed portal to a reality left behind.

Her eyes are, unsurprisingly, drawn to the crackling flames in the fire place, casting orangey glows on the stone walls. She spares an amused thought to the image of old Winston performing the maze trick every other day to get into the room, to keep the fire lit.

With a hollow chuckle, her attention returns to the disc.

It may be unremarkable, but it's still calling. Her fingers wander to the keypad, eyes scanning the options with precision.

Four digits. Dozens of possible combinations.

_Better start getting busy._

Less than three minutes afterwards, her head jerks up as a loud 'bang' echoes in the stone tunnel far behind her.

_What the hell…_

Fast steps follow.

_Shit, someone's coming…_

Quickening already feverish motions, hurriedly inserting numbers on the keypad.

0211, 0212, 0213, 0214… 'click'.

'_Click'?_

The glass surface detaches itself slowly from its pedestal, the disc inside silently falling back into the world of gravity.

With a satisfied grin, Aysha hurries to lift the cursed glass. She hesitates, however, in taking the object itself. For some reason, it feels off-limits, as if touching it would be, more than an invasion of property, a dangerous action.

She shrugs the hesitation off, telling herself that she didn't go through that entire hell of finding levers, dashing through closing doors and guessing codes to give it all up now.

Thank God she turned off the lights…

* * *

By the time Kurtis finds the cursed light switch, he is in absolute killer mode. Anything that stands in his way will probably have the same fate as the unfortunate door that so impolitely blocked his passage. 

The pretty golden length of treasure may have a relative effect in calming his anger, but not enough to slow down his march. He is there for one purpose and one alone

* * *

Oblivious o the lights that have flicked on once again behind her, Aysha reaches out an unsure hand for the metal disc which, despite the heat of the room, is as cold as ice. Her wandering fingers find their way into the five holes and an even stronger feeling of unease washes over her. 

A disc with finger holes? What exactly is the point of that thing?

* * *

The smaller room comes into view of an extremely pissed Kurtis, as well as the kneeling proto inside. She has already turned around, attracted by the noise and is looking straight at him. More than caught, she looks a bit startled. And judging by what rests in her hands, she has every reason to be. 

Eyes twitching like mad, he growls.

"Give me that, proto! RIGHT NOW!"

Aysha irks an eyebrow at his apparently random behaviour.

"Why should I? I was the one who found…"

"It's MINE! Hand it over!" And, without waiting for a reply, he holds out a hand and the Chirugai's blades spring to life, drawing a yelp from Aysha who promptly drops it.

The flaming weapon flies to meet its owner, lodging itself perfectly around his outstretched fingers.

Surprised by the pain a simple blade can cause, Aysha grabs her bleeding hand and throws the Lux Veritatis a withering look.

Kurtis, however, doesn't stick around for the retaliation. Like an angry bull that only sees the way forward… or backwards in this case… he bolts out of the room and makes a beeline for the tunnel exit, leaving a plain "shouldn't mess around with sharp things" hanging in the air.

* * *

"Lara, dear, are you aware that he has left?" 

"Yes"

"And are you aware that he also somehow wrecked the treasure room door?"

"Yes"

"'Yes'? And don't you intend to do anything about it?" the butler frets.

With a controlled sigh, unleashing just a very tiny part of the anger that is pilled up inside her chest, Lara snaps shut the book she has been pretending to read and looks up at Winston.

"Why should I?" She has been expecting this. If anything, it only happened faster than she had planned… But that only means she's free of the American, so why be bothered?

"But… but Lara!" Winston's face shifts from 'lost and confused old man' to 'wise advisor', something he does very often and a little too quickly for Lara's liking "Whatever argument you had, no matter how serious it was, no one should take decisions with a hot head! That boy might be getting himself into some serious trouble by leaving like that, without a second thought…"

"And why should _I_ care?" Lara shouts, loosing patience at last "I don't give a damn if he never comes back, I hope he'll shove that stupid bike down a cliff! AND I HOPE HE STAYS THERE THIS TIME!"

The door suddenly bolts open and a gasping Aysha enters the room.

"Lara, Trent's left!"

"I know" Lara replies, taking dozens of deep breaths.

"You know?"

"I know"

"And you're not gonna do anything about it?"

"He left without you?" Winston interrupts, back to the confused old man. Aysha looks at him strangely, too confused herself to even remember the stupid 'sister lie'.

"Lara!" she insists.

"Why don't the two of you just LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE?" Lara bellows, rushing out of the room.

Aysha follows suit, giving Winston just enough time to catch a glimpse of her bleeding hand.

* * *

Well yeah, it's not much of a chapter, but the point wasn't to make it good, it was to make it _different_. Thank you all for reading and, again, sorry AKKON! 


	10. Fratribus de Cruor

**If you haven't done so yet, please check the note on chapter 9. Thank you.**

* * *

The darkness has finally covered the wide sky, making his patient wait worthwhile at last. Slowly and deliberately, like a spilled spot of ink that covers the entire cloth with lasting, purposeful movements, the night grows and expands its grasp on the world. 

Patience. The virtue of the hunters, as the creature uses to say.

But tonight he is not the hunter. He is but the stalker, the silent watcher that must cower in the shadows and then scurry off to meet his _master_ and report what he has seen.

Invisible. Harmless. Oh, what a shame for the powerful, what a torture for the bloodthirsty… But do the creature's biding he must. He still needs _it_.

A hushed growl stirs the frightful leaves around the spot where Shadow hides. How revolting, how truly humiliating, this return to a puppet existence… Servant of the rotting remnants of an already deceased leader.

But growling will have to do for now. He needs the creature, if only for a short time. Soon… soon they'll be united once again. Soon the power will be theirs. The world…

No. Enough rambling, he can't blow it now. A servant he will be, a mere stalker as ordered. It is time to enter the house…

But what is this? A male crosses the wooden doors in a fierce rage, moving through the garden with a reckless and decided stride.

Shadow recedes to his hiding place once again, a sudden animal urge rushing over him. He doesn't need to recall the creature's words, not even put much though into it… he knows who stands before him.

_Lux Veritatis._

Ah, the craving… the temptation of taking out the last one and feasting on his crimson life… _Control yourself. _Eternity must not be spoiled at the expense of a momentary yearning.

And so he waits. If the filthy guardian wishes to leave the house, he'll let him… his main target is the woman. Still inside, he gathers?

The man stops abruptly, alarmingly close to where Shadow is hiding. Too close. He bites back a growl and crouches further.

There is simply no way the pathetic mortal can sense him… That would go beyond humiliation.

Kurtis halts his enraged march halfway down the gravel path. Amid all his anger, he has no idea how he could gather the presence of mind to notice this, but he does: the silence. The overwhelming, crushing silence that threatens to fall on him and swallow him whole.

Things aren't supposed to be silent…

A country house, in the middle of vast grassy grounds and such a starry night… Why such silence? What happened to the crickets, to all the night time bugs and critters?

It's too silent.

A brief look around shows him a calm, peaceful garden. A silent garden. The cool breeze wipes through the bushes and ruffles their leaves gently, leaving a feeling of lightness in its path.

Why, then, does the atmosphere feel so heavy?

* * *

"Are you just gonna let him go?" Aysha asks, unbelieving. Lara's eyes fulminate her instantly. 

"What will you have me do? Run after him and beg him to stay?"

The younger girl mouths a sound of frustration.

"You guys need each other!" noticing Lara's expression, she adds quickly "You need to work together, I mean! I though you were trying to work out this whole Cabal mess, how d'ya intend to do that on your own?" She receives a curt 'mind your own business' as a reply and curses loudly. Well, Lara has never actually heard a similar word, nor can she identify the language, but she is sure the kid meant it as a curse…

"Why do you humans always have to be so fucking complicated?" And with that, the proto storms down the stairs without a glance back.

Lara's first thoughts are of relief. Then comes the apprehension.

_She wouldn't dare…_

Quickly and in silence, she makes her way to the main hall and dares a peek out the door. Her eyes widen in furious disbelief.

_She dared._

"KID! Get back here THIS INSTANCE!"

* * *

Kurtis shakes himself mentally. Could his screwed up brain be making up senseless excuses to keep him in that house? After all, he hasn't been acting very sane lately… What, with voices in his head and weird dreams… Another mental shake. He's going to leave _now_ and get as far away from lady Croft as humanly possible. 

With this resolve, he tears his eyes away from the garden and rushes towards the tall iron gates. He stops in his tracks again, however, this time halted by the annoyed calling of his name.

"TRENT!"

_Oh for fuck's sake…_

He turns around halfway, not even knowing why he bothers. The proto is running in his direction with Lara on her heels, the later apparently trying to preserve some of her oh-so-valuable dignity.

"What now?" He snaps harshly, preparing to tell the bloody kid to get inside and stay out of grown-up business. He doesn't get the chance, however, as she halts suddenly, halfway across the gravel path, with the look of someone whose brain as just been frozen solid. Or seen a ghost. For some reason, he thinks the first option is more likely…

The girl just stands there for a few seconds, a wide-eyed surprise written across her face, blood still carelessly dripping from her ignored cut. Then she begins to frantically scan her surroundings, as if she had suddenly woken up in an unknown place.

Under the cover of the bushes, Shadow can't believe what his eyes show him.

_No. It can't be._

Frantic eyelids snap shut over steel orbs and he shakes his head furiously. Checking again. She's still there.

_Impossible._

And she knows he's there. Maybe not where, or who exactly he is… but she knows someone's there. Someone familiar. She's looking for him.

All thoughts of stealth or the creature's orders vanish as Shadow stands up abruptly, automatically sending his sister into a defensive stance.

Aysha greets the newcomer with incredulous eyes.

_It can't be._

"Ethaniel?" the name leaves her lips feebly, a shaky whisper, almost as if she were afraid to pronounce it.

He nods slowly and reaches out to her with an awe that she doesn't remember. Apprehensive and slightly frightened, she draws back at once. It doesn't feel right… She's been looking so hard for all of them and now he's standing right there, before her… Just like that… It just doesn't feel right…

"It can't be you" she mutters, not knowing what to say. Ethaniel seems to have awakened from his trance-like surprise and his confident features are back once again.

"_Audite me, sanctimonialis de meus gens. __Cruor de meum pater_" he recites in a hushed tone, so only she can hear him.

Aysha shakes her head in mere disbelief, but replies shakily:

"_Audio, frater de cruor. Viscus de mea mater_" She makes no effort to stop him as he smiles broadly and grasps her hands in his, even though every cell in her body is screaming at her to stay away from him. A question in his eyes when he notices the blood, soon silenced by a shake of her head.

"I had no idea I'd find you here!" he admits. Aysha can only smile feebly. So may alarm bells… But why? He's her brother…

"Where were you all this time?" she demands, forcefully shrugging the disturbing thoughts off. And the pain. Pain travelling from her hand and spreading throughout her entire arm, hurting so much more than a simple blade cut should…

Shadow seems to hesitate for a moment, another trait so unlike him that it leaves Aysha even more nervous.

"I've been looking for the others… listen, I need to tell…" He suddenly seems aware that the two humans are watching them "What the hell are you doing with these people?" he snaps.

Aysha glances from a very apprehensive Lara to thoroughly pissed Kurtis.

"We met by chance… Kurtis is…"

"I know what he is!" Shadow grasps her arm and yanks her forcefully to his side. Not that she's unused to this kind of treatment, but his attitude is leaving her anything but comfortable…

"Ethaniel, they've fought the Cabal too! They can help us…"

"'Help us'?" he hisses "Since when do we need any help from _humans?_ From that filth, of all humans" he nods disdainfully towards Kurtis.

"Damn it, will you just let me explain?" she yanks her arm free and, before he can say anything else, starts "We can use their help all right, it's in our best interest to get rid of what's left of the Cabal! They can help us do that! Then we can just blend in with the humans and live our lives, nobody else will bug us!"

Shadow eyes his impertinent sister up and down, somewhat surprised at how fast she's forgotten seventeen years of harsh military hierarchy, but he'll have to deal with that later. Something she said is stinging him like a sharp thorn on his side.

"Blend in? With humans? What's gotten into you? Humans are the enemy!"

"But if you just…"

"No 'buts'!" What's with her? Humans are their natural enemy! They were the ones responsible for the mass slaughter of their ancestors, for their life long curse! Does she, even for a moment, think that the human society would hesitate in eliminating one of them, should they ever find out what they were?

"Don't you see? We can rule them!" Aysha winces. He's once again gripping her already throbbing arm "We're the superior race, we were always meant to rule! The time for humans is over…" Aysha tries in vain to break free from his grasp. His demented rambling is scaring her and her panicked thoughts are now returning to Lara and Kurtis, just a few feet away, both armed. She only hopes they don't make the fatal mistake of facing Ethaniel…

"We can do it on our own, the seven of us" Ethaniel continues, now seeming somewhat desperate to tell her all about some insane plan "With Karel's help, we can…"

"KAREL?" She draws back from him as if hit by an electrical jolt "What does Karel got to do with any of this?"

"Nothing!" he rushes to assure "He's just a means to an end, he'll help us find the others and then, when his usefulness ends…"

"Stop!" the conscious part of Aysha's brain is racing with all sorts of disturbing thoughts while the unconscious one is simply worried about putting as much distance between them as possible "Don't you see? You're talking just like him! You're _becoming_ him!"

Ethaniel glares at her, missing her point entirely.

"But we are the future! Don't you get it?" his sister's expression doesn't change and, in his frustration, he's overcome by some irrational rage.

It has to be their fault. The humans. It's always their fault. All of a sudden he doesn't care about the creature's orders anymore. A deep growl assembles deep in his innards, making its way up his throat and threatening to explode at any second.

"Them… it was them, wasn't it?" he hisses dangerously. Aysha just shakes her head and mouths a 'what?' "It was _them_! They've been getting these ridiculous notions into your head!"

Things have hit the red zone and she knows it. Whoever Ethaniel has become, she doesn't know him anymore. It's one thing to hate humans, but to raise an army to wipe them out?

Their army…

_This is getting out of hand._

"Nobody's getting anything into my head!" she bellows desperately "I'm just not as blind as you!"

But he doesn't hear her. His eyes are full of some animal anger and he's staring intently at 'the humans'.

"It's not your fault…" he rambles "You're young… you don't know anything yet… Don't worry, I'll put an end to this…"

"Ethaniel, no!"

"Everything will be like before, don't you worry… Except this time we'll be in charge" Before she has time to react, he's begun, going for Kurtis first.

Time slows down to about a third in Lara's eyes and everything seems to happen in slow motion. Still, Ethaniel is too fast to be more than a passing shadow, a fluid spot of colour lunging towards Kurtis. His Chirugai flies through the now stale air, so slow and yet so noisy… the turning of blades pierces the air with the sound of a thousand swords, an unbearable clashing of metal that wounds her ears.

A spot of red sprouts from the form that is Ethaniel, not stopping it for a second. And then her own hand automatically shoots up, gun in hand. One. Two. Three shots. More red. Beautiful crimson flowers bloom from the Nephilim's body, never halting his movement.

Everything is happening too fast for her to even assemble thoughts. So slow and yet so fast… And then, all of a sudden, time regains its natural course. Ethaniel is no longer lunging for Kurtis, but lying on the floor. Aysha is on top of him, hand clasped claw like around his throat, the blood flowing from her palm mixing with the one from his wounds.

He looks surprised for a millisecond but then a wide grin spreads across his twisted features. Lara can't make out the words he hisses to his sister.

"You feel it, don't you?"

Aysha shudders as he speaks, but the perfect balance of anger and fear keeps her where she is. It all happened too fast to be planned and, before she knew it, she was on him. Her fingers, she notices with dread, have elongated into pale, sharp claws, clasped around his throat. She's downright terrified, a sensation increased by his proud and delighted smile.

He's demented. She's sure of it now.

"I know you do" he insists, rising a tempting finger to trace the newly formed markings on her face. Her mechanical reaction is to tighten her grip on his throat, making him gasp but never erasing his grin "It feels good, don't it? The power…" Stroking her freezing cheek now "Embrace it, it's yours"

"Quiet" she hisses in a voice that isn't quite her own "You've lost it"

"Maybe" he chuckles "But you've gained it, little sister. Watcha gonna do with it?"

Silence. She feels the overwhelming urge to dilacerate his throat.

"Embrace it" he taunts "It's yours. Use it, join me. Together we can make them pay, all of them"

A growl makes its way out of her pursed lips. That offer hurts way too much, much more than it should, much more than the wounded hand. It sends a sickening feeling to the pit of her stomach, as if something had begun to twist around in there, struggling and wriggling to make its way out.

She tightens her grip once again, razor sharp claws drawing small rivulets of blood this time.

"Go away" she whispers, an icy hiss that freezes the night around them "Never come back. And stay the hell away from _them_"

Ethaniel chuckles painfully. In two seconds, his body is evaporating and darkening, a foggy shadow making its way out of his sister's grasp.

"You can't hide from it" the warning echoes in the night, following the parting shadow "It's your destiny. And mine. We'll meet again, sis" and, with that, he vanishes from view, leaving blood spots as the only trace of his passing.

Aysha stumbles backwards, painfully connecting with the ground. Her vision is covered by a red haze and her body feels so hot that she begins to shiver with cold. She has the overwhelming urge to dive into some pond to wash it off her… to wash _him_ off her… to wash something off her. But she feels that if she stands up she might throw up. Or faint. Possibly both.

Lara stares at the slumped proto on the floor, not quite knowing what to make of her. It all happened so fast… She takes in her quickly disappearing marks, being disgustingly reminded of Karel, her red eyes and retracting claws. She can't deny that, more than once during the fight, she felt the urge to shoot them both to hell… Not that it would do much difference, anyway… And the kid did save Trent's ass…

Her eyes are suddenly drawn to Kurtis', a couple of steps away from the iron gate. He returns the look, mutely placing his Chirugai back on its resting spot around his waist. A meaningful gesture, she thinks.

"What now?" the rhetorical question escapes her distracted lips as her eyes return to Aysha.

"Now we hunt them down. Again" Kurtis replies simply, voice devoid of any emotion.

"And what do you intend to use? No more periapt shards, remember? Karel's still alive and those things are" a quick glance to the proto "at least faster than us"

"We'll manage" he answers.

"We have to move" The sudden hoarse intervention makes them both jump in surprise and face Aysha's kneeling form "You can't waste time or hesitate. They won't"

"That's very nice, kid, but we can't exactly use bullets" Kurtis retorts, somewhat surprised by her attempts to get up, in her condition.

Lara rushes to her side and supports her by the arm.

"Aysha, do you know why your brother came here? I mean, it wasn't for you, he didn't even now you were here…"

Aysha shakes her head sadly.

"Karel… he said something about Karel" she mumbles, grasping her forehead with a shaking hand. Kurtis and Lara exchange worried glances.

"He said a lot of things… about a lot of things" Lara tries, but the girl seems to dizzy to even understand what she is talking about.

"Karel is dangerous…" she rambles "Ethaniel's being naïve…"

Kurtis snorts, earning a reproachful glare from Lara. Of course, naïve is also the last adjective she would choose for that guy, but now isn't the time to…

"Blood" Aysha speaks suddenly "Their blood… we can use their blood" Kurtis is left under the strong impression that she is delirious and is about to tell to make sense or just shut up when she completes the statement "The blood sign… from the paintings…" and, with that, she falls limp.

Unprepared, Lara almost drops her on the ground, but manages to support her weight in time. Completely lost, she turns to Kurtis.

"It's just exhaustion" he shrugs "She mustn't be used to this sort of power display… Come on, we're leaving" he announces, turning on his heels and striding towards the gate without a second explanation.

"Leaving? Leaving to where?"

"Prague" he replies curtly.

"Prague? What the hell are we going to do in Prague?"

"We're gonna get the Blood Sign" Lara is about to retort, but he cuts her off "No time now, we'll chat along the way"

Defeated, she shrugs.

"I'm driving" she warns "Oh and be a gentleman and carry the kid yourself, will ya?" he curses under his breath, but complies, supporting Aysha's limp body all the way to the garage.

"Winston!" Lara suddenly remembers as she inserts the key in the ignition.

"You'll call him when we get there, there's no time now" Kurtis snaps. There's a certain urgency in his tone "We gotta be out of this country by sunrise"

Lara grunts but snaps the gear into position. With a last glance at the back seat to make sure Trent didn't just throw Aysha in there like some rag doll, she drives the Aston Martin out of the garage and into the night.

_And here we go again…_

* * *

Translations for the fragmented and most likely inaccurate latin: 

_**Audite me, sanctimonialis de meus gens. Cruor de meum pater** - Hear me, sister of my clan. Blood of my father._

_**Audio, frater de cruor. Viscus de mea mater** - I hear, brother of blood. Flesh of my mother._

The title, as I'm sure you can deduce, means Brothers of Blood or Siblings of Blood, or whatever the heck you like... it doesn't sound very nice in English...

Chapter eleven is on it's way, hopefully in the next few weeks. Summer gets me into a creative mood (aka insomnia), so I'll be writting a lot.

Thanks a lot for reading and please take a few minutes to review, I'll be very grateful ;)


	11. The Lamb

**NOTE: Chapter 9 has been re-written, if you haven't read it yet please do so now and _read the note on the beginning_. Thank you.**

Another chapter that I don't particularly like but I know when I'm stuck and can't make it any better, so I decided it was time to get it out of my system already. As usual, I'll elaborate in the end.

* * *

The train proceeds in its monochord march along the tracks, doing a remarkable job of lulling the passengers to sleep as a forlorn Britain is gradually left behind. Not that anyone takes notice of the ever-growing distance. The concrete walls of the tunnel are successful in shutting out the entire outside world, giving the whole trip a surreal feeling of programmed artificiality. 

Still, Lara is sure it is raining outside. It was back at Dover when they left, at least. She is bitterly reminded of her baby, standing defenceless in the station's rain, subject of covet by random street punks, burglars and all sorts of scum… She really wishes Trent had told her about this tiny detail of the trip _before _she had picked the McLaren of all cars. She wishes even more that her brain hadn't been so drunk that it hadn't made the connections: Prague, take the train, go through France… a plane would take too long to arrange, the Cabal would be on them in minutes…

She sighs in frustration. Maybe she should phone Winston to go pick up the car… Maybe she should have already phoned him to explain where she is… Maybe she should go to the bar, drag Trent away from his flirtatious endeavour with the bartender, force him to sit down on the compartment and explain once and for all exactly what his insane plan is. Maybe she doesn't even want to know.

_It never really ends, does it?_

A relatively peaceful interlude of four months, just about long enough to give the blissful illusion that one might actually indulge the rest of their days in tranquillity… and then 'bang', back at it, as if waking up from a dream, straight into the arms of that bitch that is reality.

She is hardly even surprised anymore, why bother?

It is raining. She is sure of it. In her eyes, night time France wouldn't feel right without rain. Or without armed policemen and angry rotweillers, but that's a whole different story… or perhaps not. She doesn't dwell on the pointless idea, presently her mind isn't in much of a thinking mood.

Another sigh, resigned this time, a look at the seat in front of her. Aysha still lies there, sprawled in the exact same position as when they entered the train and dumped her on the seat. An unhealthy tint of wax covers her already pale features and her breathing is so meek that, on a first inspection, she would appear downright dead.

Lara herself would be inclined to think so, if it wasn't for the girl's grunts of protest when being dragged into the train.

A glance at the careless bandage around her hand. A tiny crimson flower is blooming among limp fingers, soaking the gaze at a slow but steady pace.

Trent offered no explanations about that, mentioning only that it was a superficial wound. Quite honestly, Lara isn't very interested in knowing what those two were up to down in her treasure room.

In _her_ treasure room… Her hand curls into a fist as dozens of images cross her mind, all of them involving Trent and a whole lot of blood. On second thought, perhaps Aysha belongs in those images as well… But the fact that she just granted them a couple more hours to live (even though Lara doubts she even knows how she did it) somewhat delays her debut in lady Croft's dark list.

Impatient fingers drum on the iron windowsill. In the quietness of her thoughts, Lara awards Kurtis three minutes to cut the small talk, get a phone number, postpone the shagging and return. A hundred and eighty seconds in which her brain will leisurely go over all the possible ways to end his unfortunate existence with her bare hands.

She has more than enough reasons to want him by her side, namely his knowledge of the forces she is currently facing, but even more to want to beat him to a bloody pulp. One of said reasons is still pecking at the back of her mind with its greedy, taunting vulture-beak.

A sentence, a line, spat carelessly among the fire of a discussion, a stone thrown randomly. Meant to burn, hurt, hopefully stun, never to poison. Just another revelation of men's feeble knowledge of their own weapons.

She doesn't waste her time on it. She doubts he even remembers, so the only logical decision would be to forget about it and hope the vulture will grow tired of her battered carcass.

Only logic has no place among vultures and little to none importance in her current life. And so the cursed creature pecks on, feasting on anger and uncertainty.

"…_you were a goddamn bump in the road that I'll be more than happy to forget!"_

Pointless, random, meaningless… So devoid of purpose that it's hardly even worth dwelling on. Why she does, is beyond her. Or maybe it suits her to think so, as Kurtis's insanity, were it here in all its helpfulness, would promptly state.

Said insanity is, apparently, not performing its designated functions, for the face that appears through the door bears an expression of blank coolness, unsurprisingly seasoned by a glass of Jack Daniel's.

Lara watches as he crosses the cabin, twists his nose at the proto who is lying across an entire seat, and sets himself beside her. She doesn't move an inch to make room for him.

None of them seems to acknowledge the other's presence for several minutes. His gaze is lost somewhere on the lower right corner of the window frame, among a stray mosquito that buzzes ferociously against the glass, a prisoner gripping the bars of its cage. The not-so-effectively-conditioned air carries the fragrance of old leather and cigarette smoke. The lights of the tunnel outside flicker slightly in the gloom.

Lara's dry cough shatters the silence.

Slowly and lazily, Kurtis's eyes regain some of their focus. He blinks several times, reminding her of a crocodile on a river bank, disturbed from its thoughtful nap, deciding if it's worth to snap the neck of the creature that awoke it.

But he is looking at her. In a falsely condescending and patient way, but looking at her nonetheless.

"So?" she demands.

"So?"

"Are you going to tell me?"

He blinks another couple of times, azure orbs half closed.

"Now?"

She doesn't answer this one. She's quite aware that she doesn't have to, a glare is quite enough.

A strained sigh leaves his lips, but he decides to humour her. Or almost…

"We're going to Prague" he offers with a shrug.

"Already shared that little gem of information"

"Right… yeah…" More than lacking patience, he presently strikes Lara as downright tired. For a slightly panicked second, she is left with the impression that he's sort of making it up as he goes along and that he has no idea of what he intends to do once they get to Prague. His eyes loose focus for another moment, absently following the mosquito that is now buzzing around the compartment, but soon enough he's talking again "You never told me… you know, Eckhardt, the Sleeper…"

"You never asked" she replies, hardly surprised with the question, more with the timing.

"No. Never. So…?"

Her mind feels even hazier now, for some reason, and his fragmented, sleepwalker replies aren't helping. Therefore, her answer is as vague and uninterested, following the mosquito's rhythmic wandering.

"Dead. Karel did it." A pause, as if to recall something that hardly needs recalling "He was a nephilim as well" He nods absently and she's hardly even surprised that he isn't surprised. She quickly goes over the events, finding no use in painting the whole scene for him, keeping to the basic. The shards, Eckhardt, the Sanglyph, the Sleeper, Karel…

"How exactly did you kill it?" noticing her dormant expression, he adds "The Sleeper. What did you do with the Sanglyph?"

She paints him a more detailed portrait of her ascension through the metal gateway, the final jump, the attachment of the object to the sleeping creature's heel.

"It clung there like a magnet" she explains "Took no longer than twenty seconds for the thing to not-so-spontaneously combust"

Leaning slightly forward, Kurtis demands:

"What was the exact reaction? What happened to its body?"

"It sorta started glowing" she replies, not failing to notice his focus on this detail "The light increased, it engulfed its body, and soon enough it was like imploding" she shrugs "I didn't really stick around to watch the show, was a bit busy falling and then running out of the place" All the while the little mosquito dances in front of her face.

She sees him furrow his brow momentarily. A few seconds gone, however, and whatever spark of interest his eyes could have held has been entirely erased. Lara is left with the feeling that he had meant to ask her something else, but repented at the last minute.

Kurtis settles back on the seat, eyes once again lost in the infinity. The tunnel lights are flickering more insistently now.

_On, off, on, off, on…_

* * *

"Marten, how nice to hear from you again. Do you bring me news of our boy?" 

"Boy is the right word, Herr Rouzic" the thick baritone voice resounds from the earpiece "That is exactly what he behaved like. And, if I may, he isn't exactly in his best shape, or he would certainly have noticed we were tailing him in the first place…"

"If that were the case, my dear Gunderson, there wouldn't be enough left of you to carry this conversation. Do not waste my time, cut to the point if you please"

A displeased grunt sounds muffled on the other side of the line, but the reply comes promptly.

"He is not reliable, I tell you, and you'll have the proof of that when he returns. Ask him how it went. I'll bet anything you want as he doesn't tell you about who he found"

"And who might that be?"

"One of his own. She was with the Croft woman and Trent"

Rouzic's hand halts its dance across the paper and his one good eye gains a strange gleam as the pen is dropped, forgotten on the desk.

"A proto, you say? With Croft and Trent?"

"Yes"

"Our weapons… first lost and now in the hands of our enemies…" these words are whispered thoughtfully, more to himself. A change in his tone, as if inquiring about extremely important data "Did you see which one?"

"No, my men were, _obviously_, forced to maintain an uncompromising distance"

"Obviously. But it was a female?"

"Yes, of that I'm sure"

He settles back on the chair, an utterly displeased look on his face.

"What else do you have to tell me, Marten?"

"Shadow reached Ms. Croft's location easily and proceeded to find cover in order to infiltrate the house. All very regular, except for the fact that he didn't even notice we were on his heels…"

"Save it, Marten"

"…that isn't even the start of it. He contradicted every order he received by giving his position away at the sight of the other proto"

"He is nineteen and impulsive"

"A disgrace as a soldier"

"Our boys aren't very good when it comes to following orders. That is, in fact, the main reason why our dearest _Meister _Eckhardt was kept in the dark regarding this project" The insinuation in his voice was so subtle that it would be hard to make out the sarcasm. A habit he had acquired over the years, to sound, look and act non-committal.

"Well, if you ask me…"

"That's the thing, you see? I did not and do not intend to ask you. Just report the facts, if you please, Gunderson"

It wouldn't take a genius to imagine how, on the other side of the line, the mouthpiece was being covered to muffle a string of curses and rather original insults to Rouzic's person. He waited patiently for the chief of the mercenaries to report again.

"A fight followed. Apparently his _sister-_that's what they call each other, isn't it, God- Wasn't very pleased to see him. And he didn't look too approving of her company. Our friend Trent could very well be a heap of burnt carnage by now"

"He could. But he is not" his tone is as blank as ever, but something in his expression is disturbed.

"No. The girl. She stopped your golden boy"

"Did she now?" a trace of clear interest is settling on his features, only noticeable if one spots the shivering iris of his healthy eye "And how might she have done that?"

"As I said, sir, we weren't close enough to get a good look and binoculars can't do a thing when the angle is bad. But I _can_ tell you that no extraordinary display of powers took place…"

"No fireworks then, Marten?" He mocks, as if talking to an ignorant. The voice comes out very controlled from the ear-piece, but he can tell the other man is entertaining thoughts of gutting him in his sleep.

"There were no remarkable visual displays"

"Be precise with me"

"She lunged at him…"

"'Lunged'?"

"Yes. And pinned him down. After that there might have been an exchange between the two and then your Shadow left. She fainted afterwards"

"He left?"

"Yes. Not very wounded, I might add…"

"And she fainted… Thank you, Gunderson" the librarian harshly cuts in "Where are Croft and Trent now?"

"They've left the manor in a hurry, by car, and entered a train with destination to Callais"

"Where you are calling me from"

"Yes. Our orders?"

"Bring me the girl" he states simply "That Trent boy has been a thorn on our side for long enough, like his father before him, and Croft… Well, Master's interest in her is but pure curiosity, I believe. You get the picture, wanted dead or alive"

"Perfectly. And the girl?"

"She mustn't be hurt. Bring her to us unscathed, understand?"

"Yes. Is that all?"

"That is all. Good luck" he finishes dryly, putting the phone down at once. Long, sickly pale fingers drum on the wooden desk.

_Master Karel must know about this._

Resigned, he begins his march downstairs.

* * *

The atmosphere feels slightly different for some reason. The feel of the scene seems to have changed, although the scenario remains the same. A new act, perhaps. 

The mosquito zooms across the compartment, right in front of Lara's eyes. She is truly beginning to hate that thing.

"Mathias Vasiley" Kurtis speaks so suddenly that she almost jumps, despite herself "Does the name mean anything to you?" A quick scrutiny of his face tells her that, not only does he already know the answer, but it isn't really a question. He looks distracted, absent, whatever she wants to call him, everything but present.

"There's plenty of shiny things at his place" she mumbles, unwilling to drag this pointless conversation for any longer. So she moves in for the kill "How come he was in possession of all the engravings?"

A straight look, a focused one, and finally his undivided attention.

"You mean your friend never told you? The one that got killed?" noticing her expression, he hastily adds "It was on the papers. I do read, you know?"

"He didn't really have the time to tell me much" she replies, making a face. Brown eyes suddenly snap up to meet his, as if what she is about to say is of vital importance "He wasn't my friend" not quite sure of whom she is trying to convince.

A swift hand lands flatly on the seat beside her, as casual as a fallen leaf. It stays there as the atmosphere goes silent, devoid of some noise they only now realise existed.

"Von Croy was in contact with Mr. Vasiley for almost a month, I gather" she continues blankly "Now, for an art dealer, this guy sure was sharp. He soon realised how much the engravings were worth and kept the fifth back, he asked for more money…" she suddenly stops, feeling rather stupid. Kurtis bears a knowing and slightly amused expression, which unnerves her to no end "Care to enlighten me?"

"He was never really after cash. He was just being a responsible guardian"

No need to ask, no point in doubting.

"Looking after the interests of the order, I see"

"And of the general population" he removes the Chirugai from its resting place on his belt, twirling it around in his hands like a stress-ball "He smelled Eckhardt miles away"

"A model citizen. Why deliver the other engravings in the first place, then? If he knew Eckhardt was behind Von Croy all along?"

"He was stalling. Buying his time"

"Time for what? For whom?"

The Chirugai's blades spring to life suddenly in his hands, startling her slightly, and then slowly draw back, like a docile kitten ordered to collect its claws. His expression is perfect, steely and cold, but the weapon in his hands betrays his feelings.

"For someone that came too late" is the reply, followed by a humourless chuckle "I have a hell of a tendency for that"

She remains silent, fully aware that they are treading on glass spikes and that he is already getting cut.

His actions tell a different story, though, and he is all of a sudden only too keen on talking.

"What you have to understand is that the Lux Veritatis wasn't just this huge army of mighty fighters, there was an underworld web, complexity, hierarchy… When you look back on this kind of orders, history tells you about tall men brandishing heavy swords with red crosses on their chests…"

Lara nods in understanding, urging him to go on.

"…you hear about the men that give their face on the battlefield, the ones in charge of the action. What you don't hear about is the ones on the background, the supporters, contacts, keepers of documents, secrets, keys…"

"…vaults"

He smiles faintly, not truly impressed but pleased enough with the fact that she is keeping up.

"Our Vasiley was a keeper. Invaluable as a source of information, useless as a fighter. Eckhardt knew that"

"By keeping the fifth engraving back, he hoped that the Vault of Trophies would remain undisturbed and the painting would be safe… Tough luck. Was he the last one?"

"There are probably more… Around, hiding, cowering…" he shrugs "They're all useless now"

"And you were the mighty fighter he was expecting?"

He snorts.

"I was the only mighty fighter _left_" a grimace accompanies the bitter statement "Funny how you spend most of your adult life trying to run away from something and then suddenly realise that if you had just stayed for _a little while_ longer, there wouldn't be anything left to runaway from. Even funnier, no matter the choice you make, there will be ghosts on your slate"

"Truly funny, how a single ghost is enough to make you return to what you fought so hard to run away from"

Their eyes meet in silence. The first of many times when they see their own expression reflected on the other's face. He is the first to lower his gaze.

The lights are even worse here, if possible.

_On, off, on, off, off, on, off, off, off…_

"We need a way to dispose of our new acquaintances" he states hoarsely, nodding towards a still sleeping Aysha "According to her charming brother, Karel is also a problem. These protos are mostly human, so I'm guessing that they can be killed… They can be wounded at least…" His eyes stop momentarily on the girl's bandaged hand, now soaked in crimson liquid "But we still got the major problem, probably not in Prague anymore, but hidden in some God forsaken place, recovering from his last meeting with you"

"And there are no more shards" she completes.

His smile is resigned and tired.

"We need a new indestructible weapon. Preferably one that can't be destroyed, this time"

_On, off, off, off…_

"And you think the answer to our problems is at Vasiley's place?"

"Hey, I'm just the fighter" he states, stupidly waving the Chirugai in the air "Guys like Vasiley are the ones meant to do the thinking and have the knowledge and all that"

_On, off, off, off, off…_

Lara sighs.

"Here's hoping he kept 'the knowledge' somewhere other than his mind, because otherwise we have a problem"

He smiles and nods, a faraway gleam in his eyes.

"Do you… have a theory?" she tries.

_Off._

The entire tunnel plunges into permanent darkness and the train's internal lights have the same fate.

The sound of complaining passengers rises from the compartments all around them. At first, just an indignant whining, then a surprised clucking and finally a panicked shouting, accompanied by a sound that doesn't quite belong there.

Kurtis and Lara stand up at once, the last's hand finally leaving the seat where it covered the dead mosquito.

"Silencer" she declares, speaking up both their minds. In less than five seconds, both guns are drawn, Kurtis has prodded Aysha into wakefulness and the three of them are out in the hallway.

* * *

"Master?" 

"Come in, Luther, come in"

The librarian closes the heavy metal door behind him, making sure to keep his gaze down.

"How are you feeling today?" he asks cautiously.

"Abismal, why go around it. It is still too soon to see any improvements"

A minute of silence goes by as Rouzic takes a seat on a wooden chair, close enough to hear Karel's whispered words but far enough to be respectful. He quickly scrutinizes the entire cloaked form, making sure the light is settled in all the correct places.

"You don't look so bad…" he states, only to be promptly interrupted.

"Don't. I can't stand pity and hypocrisy truly revolts me"

Another moment of silence, this time interrupted by Karel.

"You bring me news? Or didn't you have anything better to do with your time?"

"News, I'm afraid" he answers, carefully measuring his words "Ethaniel's mission was a failure"

"Ah. How surprising"

"You were expecting it?"

"Quite frankly, I didn't think he'd manage to make a mess of it so soon"

Rouzic glares at him with open confusion.

"Oh, come now Luther…" his tone is lazy and condescending as if these news had got him in a good mood "I had to find a way to keep the boy busy! You know how restless he may get and we wouldn't want him snooping around here too much"

"No… I guess not" Settling back on the chair, Rouzic's eye scans the room frantically, like a spokesman looking for a familiar face in the audience, something that might give him confidence for what he is about to say "He met another one… One of the girls"

This silence is quite different, tense and heavy as Karel leans forward.

"Which one?" he demands.

"I don't know… the men couldn't get a clear view of her…" hastily, Rouzic tells him all that Gunderson reported, trying not to overlook a single detail.

"That doesn't sound like Ethaniel" is the verdict.

"No. I'm actually quite convinced that he abandoned the fight virtually unharmed and extremely amused"

Karel nods thoughtfully.

"My boy…" he muses. Then Rouzic has his undivided attention "This is bad. We cannot afford to have Ethaniel find those kids before we do"

"Master… Forgive my confusion, but I never did understand that point… Is it because you fear that if he finds them, he'll think he doesn't need you after all?"

"My dear Luther" Karel waves his head as if dealing with a hopeless case "You are invaluable as a co-worker, but the humanity in you still crosses me at times, in all its grandeur and stupidity…"

If the librarian is offended, he knows better than to show it, so Karel proceeds.

"My boy has a great potential, there is no doubt about that. But he is a foolish child, only just beginning to mature and, no matter what he says, he is perfectly aware that he doesn't represent much of a threat to me" noticing Rouzic's desire to speak, he elevates his tone "Did you, by a single moment, think that he intends to bow before me and serve me once my kingdom is established?" it is not a question and he doesn't wait for an answer "If he had the power to do so, my Ethaniel would promptly bite off the hand that feeds him and gorge on the rest of the carcass"

"But he doesn't have such power…"

"No. Alone, he is no threat"

Rouzic opens his mouth, but halts before a single sound comes out. He closes it again, understanding finally setting on his eye.

"My kids follow him like dogs. He is the alpha male and they all know it, not to mention they all hate me beyond imagination"

"Ungrateful children…"

"Indeed. I don't know where this world is going…" A dry coughing fit interrupts his line of thought and he needs a second to collect it again "Either way, I would have no trouble against Ethaniel. Seven protos at the flower of their youth, however, can be a whole different story for someone in my condition…"

Rouzic nods, not failing to notice the profound bitterness in his Master's statement.

"Soon they will be no match for your powers. Soon…"

"That soon will not be soon enough" for no apparent reason, he shifts slightly in his seat. With a soft rustling, the cloak is rearranged and nestled in a different position, the light emanating from its innards increasing slightly "And we have another pressing matter that, with the news you bring, may turn out to be even more urgent…"

"Yes… Do you… Do you really think this is the girl?"

"I am inclined to think so. According to Gunderson's description, hers was a ridiculously weak power display that, however, didn't fail to drain her of a lot of energy… You tell me she ended up fainting?"

"Yes, those were Marten's precise words"

Karel nods knowingly.

"She is not yet comfortable with her powers. That narrows down our options, only two of the kids were in such a situation when they left… Just our luck, both were females"

"Unfortunate…"

"Extremely. I want a visual of this girl as soon as possible"

"Hopefully there will be more than a visual, I've ordered Gunderson to bring her to us"

"Good. Do you understand the enormity of this, Luther? If that girl is, indeed, the last, and has fallen into the hands of the Lux Veritatis…"

"The Lux Veritatis is but one man now!"

"One man is all it takes, idiot!" the intensity of his voice reverberates on the stone walls, making Rouzic shiver inside. More than anything, it reminds him that the Nephilim before him is weakened but not invalid "Follow my line of thought, man, we can lose any of the other six, we can easily remake them! A human womb, an embryo and a single sample from my DNA is all it takes… But we cannot replace _her_!"

"But sir, just as easily…"

"NO, fool! It was _that blood_, _that egg_ and _that womb_, those and those alone, that produced the lamb!" He takes several ragged deep breaths, forcing calm upon his outraged mind and continues, talking very slowly as if explaining something to a child "No others will work. The reason is unknown to us, but only the exact combination of those elements gave birth to the lamb that will be able to breach the seals"

The librarian nods slowly, resigned yet unsettled.

"We will find her" he assures.

"You had better" even beyond the hood of the cloak, Rouzic can feel Karel's icy gaze penetrating his skull "We cannot risk loosing this child. Not a second time" he waves his hand dismissively and Rouzic hurries to stand up, bow slightly and leave the room.

As the metal door closes behind him, a single thought is plaguing his mind: time is scarcer than they had thought. Things are going wrong.

* * *

OK, so this chapter contains another truckload of information and the reason why I don't like itis because it became _very slow paced..._ Terribly sorry, but you'll have to bear with me, there is a ridiculously huge amount of information involved in this story and that means _yes_, many more long conversations.

On a more random note, chapter titles are evil.

Well, if anything, I can tell you that there'll be action in the next chapter. Which is bound to be out sometime before 2007 :P

Yeah. Thanks for reading, I'll apreciate it if you find the time to review and feel free to ask questions, I'm extremely "reachable" and I try to reply whenever I can ;)


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